The Long Way: The Ten Walkers
by Lilya
Summary: LotrHp crossover, more Lotr than Hp. A Slytherin witch in Middle Earth...Full summary can be found in default chapter, alongside with other details about this story. I know they were meant to be 9 but it was the only halfdecent title I could come up with
1. Chapter I: The Wish

Title: The long way – The ten walkers 

Author: Lilya

E-mail: **lilyathedreamerhotmail.com**

Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst/ Drama/Romance… Personally I think there's a bit of everything.

Summary: On October 14th , right in the middle of the war against Voldemort, Victoria Cross, seventh-year Slytherin, left Turin via Floo Powder to reach Hogwarts. She never arrived there. Instead she ended up in Middle Earth, but maybe it wasn't just a case. The girl started a long journey…   

Main characters: The Fellowship of the Ring (especially Boromir and Frodo) Victoria Cross (OC)

Pairing: slight Frodo/Victoria

Rating: PG-13  

Disclaimer. This story is contains: Peter Jackson's movie "The Fellowship of the Ring" 80% and J. R.R. Tolkien's book 5%. Ergo, the remaining 15% should be mine.

If you have already heard it, read it or seen it somewhere else, then it's not mine.

Thanks to: My big sister Veronica, who made me write this story; Alessandra for her gags and Lara, who invented Gondor dialect. I love ya, girls, you rock my world! 

A very special thanks to my wonderful beta-reader, Daughter of Olorin. Without her, this story would be worse…

Very Important Author's Notes: Okay, folks, I know nobody likes author's notes but this time you can't skip them.  This is a Lord of the Ring/Harry Potter crossover, well, really it's a crossover with two fan fictions I wrote about Harry Potter. You don't need to read them: many things will be explained during the story, but if you wish to, they're called "Drops of water wearing through the stones" and "She stayed". You can find them in the Harry Potter section of this very site.     

This is not the usual "XXI-century-girl-dropped-in-Middle Earth"…well, not completely, at least. Victoria – said XXI century girl – doesn't end up in past times, nor in the book, nor in the film. To her, Middle Earth is another universe. In her XXI century, "The Lord of the Rings" doesn't exist. This means that she doesn't know what's going to happen nor why she's there (yes, there's a reason why she's there. And it's not stealing my favorite character's heart). 

I know that Common Tongue is not English, but this fic is already too long without Victoria taking Common Tongue or Elvish class. Please bear with me. 

I don't know if this is Mary-Sueish or not. If it is, then please tell me.

= speech

" " = thoughts

= Elvish.

_Italic_ = foreign language (Italian, Gondor local speech, Piedmont local speech, Latin)   

_Italic paragraphs_ = flashbacks

**_Italic & bold = _**emphasis

Thank you for you attention. And now let's  get started.

**THE LONG WAY** **Part one: The ten walkers**

CHAPTER I : THE WISH     

Are you all right, mister Frodo? asked Samwise Gamgee, his eyes full of worry. Frodo Baggins cast him half a smile and nodded, keeping his concentration on the road. The way to Rivendell was quite long, especially for the short legs of a Hobbit. It wasn't only the journey that weighed heavily over him. No, it was the ring he kept close in his pocket that made it all harder. A sudden noise started him, but he relaxed when he saw it was just Merry and Pippin. Sam turned to scold them for the noise and their reckless behavior and Frodo ran a hand over his own pale forehead. He almost envied his two younger cousins, so lively ad carefree, who didn't understand the real danger of that mission.

"I wish I could be like them…" he thought, his hand automatically stoking the pocket where the Ring was. The heaviest weight of all. Strider threw him a worried glance, but he didn't speak. Frodo stopped to look at the strange quartet that was his fellow-travelers: the trustworthy Sam, his young and heedless cousins and a nameless stranger…all there to help him, but nobody really understood. He wouldn't wish such a responsibility to anyone else, never. But…

The girl sat on a wooden bench leaning forward, in one of the aseptic waiting rooms that there were in the Turin Section of the Nation Ministry of Magic. In that room, there was no on else but her. Outside the window, the city – her city – lived and pulsed, but its sounds didn't reach her hears. She kept toying absentmindly with the silver ring she wore on her left hand. She turned it around her finger, took it off, put it on again, put it on another finger, and then the dance started all over again, barely changing the succession of its steps. She didn't know exactly what she was thinking about: maybe everything, maybe nothing…maybe she was just trying to ignore the lump in her throat. A hawk struggled in a cage on a big trunk, the girl raised her eyes to meet his own.                  

You aren't looking forward to go back to Hogwarts as well, are you? The hawk ruffled his feathers Neither do I. 

She sighed and kept on playing with her ring. The green stone sparkled in the sunlight coming from the windows. Then the ring stopped.

But what do you want to do about it… she said. …We have no choice. 

The dance started again. Faint footsteps approaching were heard in the corridor and the door was slowly opened by a pale clerk in a gray-smoke suit. 

Miss Cross, if you want to follow me…

The girl straightened her back with a sigh, putting on her ring. Doing so, she brushed a fingertip against one of the two snakes that held the green stone. She got to her feet, took the cage with the hawk in her left hand and with her right one she dragged the trunk. It was very heavy, but it wasn't exactly a surprise. In that trunk, Victoria Cross had  her life…or at least what remained. She followed the clerk through corridors spotless and empty, passing by offices full of agitation. It almost didn't look like they were in the middle of a war. They reached an heavy wooden door.

Here you are, Miss Cross, said the man holding the door open to let her pass. You can use this fireplace.     

Victoria pushed the trunk inside the unlit fireplace, putting the cage on it. The hawk struggled again but differently.  

I know, I know…I don't like traveling via Floo Powder as well.

When you're ready, miss… the clerk coughed holding out to her a vase filled with a strange powder, impatient to go back to his triple-copy modules.   

Victoria sighed, wiping a hand over her forehead: there was no escape. She turned and marched decidedly toward the man, glaring at him. Under that gaze, he swallowed nervously. The girl reached instinctively for the powder with her right hand,  but she almost stopped, hesitant. Her hand fell back by her side, the powder slid among the clenched left hand, brushing lightly the ring without scratching it. She marched back into the fireplace and there she hesitated for a moment. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and reopened them.       

"Any place in the world would be better than…"

Hogwarts! She shouted throwing down the powder. A vortex captured her, the trunk and the cage with hawk and they all disappeared.

Frodo raised his head and looked around. Something was going to happen, he felt it…But what if it was just a trick of his own imagination? He shook his head, worried, but his reflections were interrupted by Merry and Pippin.

Look! they shouted, pointing to a clearing a few meters away from them. Right in its middle something really strange was happening. There was a kind of "tear," something like a spot that was growing larger and larger. Beyond its jagged "borders" was only a confused blue-violet mass, like storming clouds carried by the wind.       

What is that? asked Sam, frightened.

I know it not, replied Strider, unsheathing his sword. But I don't like it. 

If only Gandalf was here… Merry murmured as Strider pushed them back, ready to face whatever creature would come out of that portal. To their great astonishment, first thrown out was a cage with a big bird inside, then an enormous trunk…And finally came the girl. She could have been between thirteen and eighteen years old, it wasn't easy to tell. She had a girl's body, but there was something about her that made her look older. She had straight hair, lighter than Frodo's, dark complexion and violet eyes. As a whole, she was quite a common girl. She was that kind of girl who is called with a series of adjectives from "gracious" to "pretty", but never beyond. The confused expression she wore on her face made her look like a child and gave her a sweet air, but surely nobody would ever mistake her for an Elf. The only particular things about her were her clothes, the strangest ones that Frodo had ever seen. She wore a white blouse under a gray, shirtless sweater, a little green-and-white striped scarf strangely tied around her neck, a gray skirt that barely passed her knees, pink socks and a strange pair of back and white shoes. On those clothes, she wore a long, black tunic with a strange embroidery on her heart. Strider lowered his sword, but didn't sheathed it back: the girl looked unarmed and harmless, but it could be a trap.

Who are you? she asked, getting back to her feet and eyeing them up and down, which was not exactly friendly. Where the hell am I?   

You're in Middle Earth, milady, exactly on the road to Rivendell, the Elven City. I am Strider, and these are my fellow-travelers.

The girl frowned menacingly. I warn you, I'm not in the mood to be laughed at… She almost growled as her eyes flashed dangerously.  

Fordo started softly. There was something slightly alarming in those eyes…and by the way Strider looked at her, he realized he hadn't been the only one who noticed.

What is your name? he asked her sternly.

Victoria Cross. Vicky Cross.

I've never heard a name of this sort. He looked at her more sternly, but she didn't care and simply shrugged her shoulders.

It's not my problem.

Instead, I believe it is. Where are you from?

Turin, Italy.

I know no place called like this… he replied. What was that tear? How did you get here?

I don't have the slightest idea.

What if she's a spy? asked Sam, worried.

No… said Strider, sheathing his sword. …just a lost girl. 

Would you mind to stop talking like I wasn't here? said Victoria.

Forgive us. Do you know how to go back home?

She rolled her eyes. I thought I said I don't know how I get here. However, if I knew it do, you think I'd stay here chatting with you, genius?

Watch you mouth, girl.

Listen, if you don't feel like helping me, then you'd better get out form my way and be gone, instead of wasting my time.

Frodo came near the Ranger and tugged at his cloak to attract his attention. The man bent down. 

I think we should let her come with us, Strider.

At those words, the man cast the girl a brief glance and then turned to look at the small Hobbit.

Are you sure, Frodo? I don't think we should trust this stranger… 

But look at her! Frodo replied decidedly, astonishing his fellows and himself first. She's alone and lost, she doesn't know how to go back home…we can't leave her here, she's just a girl.

Mister Frodo, if I may say so…I don't like that girl.     

Sam is right. Merry backed him up. She has something strange…especially in her eyes.

Didn't it occur to you that she could be scared? Frodo replied. Think about it. She's far away from home, in a strange place she doesn't know and she can't leave, with some strange people…  

Strider sighed, All right. He turned to the girl Since you have no place to go, you will come with us to Rivendell. Lord Elrond, the Elf Lord, surely will know what to do.  

Victoria nodded. Strider took a small bag from Billy's saddle and threw it to her.

Here. Take some clothes and hurry up.

What?

I hope you didn't think to bring that trunk. It's too heavy and it would slow us down.

Victoria opened her mouth to reply, but then she closed it without saying a word. She turned toward her trunk and started fussing with it. Frodo couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He saw her sliding a  hand in her pocket and moving her lips and then…he recovered suddenly. Nothing had happened, Victoria was closing her trunk, but…he felt like there was something missing. Maybe feeling his gaze on her, the girl turned to look at him for a moment. Frodo felt a blush creeping on his cheeks, but he didn't look away.   

I'm ready, she said, getting to her feet and adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

 Good, let us go. We've already wasted too much time.

Just a moment, Victoria said, turning to the empty cage on the ground. She whistled softly and a hawk flew down from a tree branch, landing on her shoulder. Her gaze, cold as ice until then, softened as she stroked his feathers. Good. **_Now_** we can go, she said, kicking away the cage and coming near them.  

They continued their journey with this new, strange fellow. For the first time in their lives, Merry and Pippin kept quiet and the others almost didn't notice their presence. They whispered to each other, often casting hurried glance to the girl. Sam, who wasn't so happy about this journey even before, now looked more nervous and also Strider kept an eye on the newcomer. On his part, Frodo couldn't stop staring at her. There was something strange about that girl, and it wasn't just the way she dressed or how she had arrived. He didn't feel something evil, it rather was something…**_sad_**, terribly sad. He didn't understand what it was, but he felt it nonetheless. Victoria probably was aware of all the staring eyes, but it was clear that she didn't give a damn about what they thought of her. Yet, a couple of times Frodo saw her looking around with clear nervousness and confusion, and her eyes rose more often toward the sky, looking for the reassuring shadow of her hawk flying high above them. The young Hobbit didn't fail to notice that the girl did those actions only when she thought that nobody was watching her. 

As soon as darkness fell, they stopped under a big oak tree. Victoria hadn't spoke during the journey. The only time they had heard her voice had been during a break when she had announced she was going to change her clothes. But those ones she had chose were weirder than the ones she wore when she had arrived. She had changed her skirt with a strange pair of light-blue trousers and the black tunic and the shirtless sweater with a normal one. The only normal clothes were the dark green cloak and the white and green striped scarf she had tied around her waist. In the light of the small fire, Frodo studied her face, looking for answers to the thousands of questions that ran through his head: Had letting her come with them been a mistake? Who was that girl? Where was she from? But above any another question, where was she now? Because Victoria was with them physically, but her soul was far away, more than the Shire. The expression she had on her face reminded him a little bit of the one that Sam had on his own every time he thought about the Shire, about his home…But at the same time it was different. He couldn't decipher it. Frodo turned to Strider. He was studying her as well. The two exchanged a brief glance and then the Ranger spoke: Do you want to tell us who you are?     

I told you, replied the girl dryly. My name is Victoria Cross, I was born in Turin, I came from a place called Italy…I don't know how I got here.

Really? asked Strider And pray tell me, how come you wear an Elvish ring? 

Victoria looked at him with her eyes wide, like he had said the most stupid thing ever.

What?

Don't pretend you don't know anything. he leaned forward and forcefully caught her left hand, showing the ring she wore on her ring-finger. This has been made by the Elves, there are no doubts. Their handiwork is unmistakable.   

Victoria freed her hand from his grip. You're wrong. It comes from my world. 

May I see it closely?

The girl threw him a suspecting look and slowly took off her ring, handing it to him. The Ranger studied it at flame's light. Its fitting had been made in silver, and it was so bright you could almost see your own image, decorated with those intricate motives typically Elvish. From the fitting's decorations came out two small snakes that held a green stone. It was quite large and thick, which was unusual for Elvish manufactures -- unusual, but really meaning. The work was unmistakable. His doubts were far from resolved, but clearly the girl couldn't tell him more. He had to wait to reach Rivendell and speak with Elrond or Gandalf or both to have an explanation. He handed her ring back and she hastily put it back on, like she was afraid to lose it.             

But the Ranger's interrogation wasn't over yet. What were you doing before you came here?

I was…walking in a street.  I was going to school.

With a trunk like that one? Strider insisted.

I attend a boarding school.

A what? asked Merry, puzzled.

A boarding school. It's a kind of school: usually they're very old and exclusive, with a long tradition…Students come to attend them from all over the country, sometimes even from abroad. And since they can't eat or sleep at home, they live there for the whole school year. Was it clear enough?  

They nodded.

There's anything else you want to tell us? the Man asked.

 What do you want me to tell you? she asked back, raising her eyebrows.

Something about you, for example, said Frodo.

Tell us of your world! Pippin spoke up.

My world… Victoria whispered, staring at the fire. …my world is very different from yours…People live in big cities and…

She spoke for a long time. The others listened to her attentively for different reasons. To the Hobbit, it was just like a fairy tale, while to Strider it was a way to understand better that stranger. As soon as she finished explaining more or less how things went in her world, Strider sent them all to bed.    

Frodo, however, couldn't sleep, and it wasn't only because of his not exactly comfortable resting-place.

Sssh, Frodo! Are you still awake? Merry whispered.

Frodo turned toward him. Aye, I am. What's the matter? 

It's that girl… the Hobbit murmured. …do you really believe all the things she said?

His cousin hesitated. I don't know. I think I do. Who could ever make up such a thing? He turned on his back, staring at the starry sky among the tree branches. Flying machines, machines that travel under the sea, journeys in the sky…It's all so absurd that it could be true. 

What if she's mad? Merry whispered. She has something strange in her eyes…and the way she talked… He shook his head, confused.

Frodo turned his head to look at him. Do you remember when Bilbo told us his adventures and we pretended not to believe him just to make him lose his temper? His cousin nodded. Well…Victoria doesn't seem to care if we believe her or not…or what we think about her…

I wonder if she cares for anything, apart from her stupid hawk. Merry muttered. Well, goodnight, Frodo.

'Night, Merry.  

The morning after, Strider awoke them at dawn. They ate hurriedly their breakfast and then they took off again. After the tale of the previous evening, Victoria had shut herself down again. The only words she said were meant for her hawk. That evening they camped again. Victoria was on her own, far from the others. She ate mechanically, lost in her own thoughts. Frodo was watching her. He was resolute to throw down the walls that stranger surrounded herself with.      

Don't you think you'd be warmer near the fire? he asked her.

Victoria looked at him astonished. No, thanks… she replied slowly I'm…I'm fine here. 

But if you get cold, then you'll be sick.

Her eyes narrowed. Afraid I could slow you down in your escape, aren't you?

The young Hobbit's blue eyes went wide. No! It's just that…well…

He was just caring for your well-fare, miss. Sam spoke up. You know, it looks like you don't care about it. 

Oh, Victoria murmured, lowering her gaze. She seemed caught in the middle between believing or not believing those words, between hoping again or not.  I'm sorry, I shouldn't say it, it's just that…

Just that…? Frodo asked, trying unsuccessfully to meet her eyes. 

A sigh. …It's just that it has been a long, long time since somebody cared for my well-fare. She closed her eyes, putting a hand on her forehead and sighing again. The ring she wore on her hand sparkled in the firelight and caught the Hobbit's gaze for a moment. He came near her.

Are you sick? he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.  

No, don't you worry. I'm fine… she said, meeting his eyes for a moment and then turning to stare at the fire. …I'm fine she repeated in a low voice.

Frodo squeezed her shoulder and Victoria's dark hand covered his own small and white. The Hobbit watched their hands and when his gaze rose, Victoria was staring at him. She looked both immensely sad and terribly happy at the same time. As they stared at each other, she smiled softly at him.

Frodo… Strider's voice broke them. The Man motioned for him to come back with the other Hobbits. Reluctantly, the boy obeyed.  

What makes you think we're flying? said Strider, staring sternly at Victoria.      

Elementary, Watson, the girl replied staring back, her eyes icy again. You move as fast as you can, stop only at night, light small fires and for a short time, pass through the woods avoiding roads and you are doing your best to erase every track we leave…Or there's **_very_** urgent business waiting for you or you have somebody at your heels… She looked around at them. Or both. It's not so difficult to understand it… she lowered her voice, her eyes far away. …and then I'm quite experienced in flights.   

Did you run away from home? Strider asked.

Victoria's hands clenched automatically. At home there's nothing left to run from…And it was like so even before. she murmured. And then, more then that, I have to mind people from school.

But you were going there! Frodo cried out. Why did you go there if it's not safe?

Victoria's gaze rose slowly, until their eyes met again. 'Cause I have no choice.

Would you mind speaking clearly for once? Strider asked.

Would you mind minding your own business? she growled turning to him and casting him a dirty look. 

Frodo sighed. It had happened again. Victoria had shut herself down.


	2. Chapter II: Amon Sul

CHAPTER II: AMON SUL 

You aren't going to try again, are you, mister Frodo? Sam whispered following his master's gaze that had been caught by the stranger again. They had stopped near a river to rest. The Hobbits were clearly exhausted and also Victoria was starting to feel tired, even if she didn't complain like Merry and Pippin did. When they had stopped, she had sat down under a tree and she had closed her eyes. After a minute, she had opened them again and she had whistled that strange tune. Immediately, her hawk had landed on her arm. Frodo didn't bother to answer to Sam and slowly approached the two companions, like there was not one, but two hawks that could be frightened and fly away.      

He's beautiful, he said, stopping about half a meter away from them. 

Yeah, he is… Victoria replied almost casually, as she stroked his feathers. Come here…Frodo, right? The Hobbit nodded. Would you like to hold him for a while?

Well…Aye. Now he was right beside her, his cloak brushing against her…

Stretch out your arm, Victoria ordered. Frodo did as she said and the hawk jumped from his master's arm to his own.     

Wow… he murmured, ecstatic. Once, when I was a boy, Bilbo took me to the see the hawks…but I've never been so close. May…May I stroke him?   

Victoria frowned. I don't know if he let you…He's not a social type. She looked away. Just like me…

Frodo didn't say anything and instead he hesitantly tried to graze the hawk's feathers with the back of his fingers, like she had done. He was ready to pull his hand back had the hawk tried to peck him, but there was no need of it. When he looked back at the girl, she was watching them with half a smile on her face.  

You must be special, Frodo Baggins… she murmured. Usually, Duke doesn't let strangers touch him.

It's his name? Duke? 

Victoria nodded without averting her eyes. He definitely likes you, she commented as the hawk roosted on his shoulder and studied him with his yellow eyes. Usually he's not so friendly with strangers.

And you do like me? Frodo asked, looking from Duke to Victoria. 

The girl hesitated. Well…I prefer appealing to the Fifth Amendment.  

The what? 

The Fifth Amendment. It's a law that gives me the right not to answer.

I see, he murmured before changing the subject. How did you train him?  

I wasn't his trainer.

Frodo seemed puzzled. I thought that all the hawks were trained by their masters…

Masters? Now it was Victoria who was puzzled. I'm not his master. I told you, he's like me. He has no master… her voice lowered, on her eyes fell a veil of sadness. …at least, no more.

Frodo opened his mouth to ask her what she meant but then closed it without a sound. It would very rude of him to ask her such a cheeky question and then he was sure he'd hurt her. He wanted to avoid that at any cost. Victoria was already upset on her own. There was no need to aggravate that situation with tactless questions…also because he couldn't foretell her reaction.     

Come on, said Strider. It's time to go. 

A few hours later, they marched on the hills. When Victoria looked away from the big circles that Duke was drawing in the sky, she saw a hill taller than the others. Over its top, there were some ruins. Blocks of stone, towers, corridors, rooms…they were far away, but she could see them with her imagination's eyes. Their frame stood out against the cloudy sky, a challenge to time and elements.   

Did you fall asleep? Merry's voice woke her. Hurry or we'll leave you here. 

She hadn't even realized she had stopped walking. In a few strides she joined them, coming near Frodo and Sam. 

Strider! she called.

The Ranger turned toward her and she asked him all in a go, pointing to the ruins. What place is that? What was it?    

Frodo turned to look at her. There was something new in her voice. It sounded excited, amazed, curious and kind of spellbound…Now her face looked like a child's.    

The ranger stared at the ruins with reverence and regret. This was the great watchtower of Amon Sul. He turned to them. We shall rest here tonight.  

On the top of the hill, Strider let his gaze wander among the hills below. He was worried. He turned toward his fellow-travelers and his eyes met the young human's ones. From that look, he understood that she felt his anxiety. Victoria looked away and the Ranger called the Hobbits and knelt down near a bundle he had placed on the ground. He unrolled it and four little swords were shown. These are for you, he said handing them out Keep them close. He got back to his feet and his gaze met again the young girl's. I am sorry, Lady Victoria, but I have none for  you.

What could she do with a sword? Merry spoke up. Drop it on her own foot?     

Girls are silly and clumsy. Pippin backed him up.

Victoria's eyes narrowed. Do you wanna see how this silly and clumsy girl beats you black and blue? she replied as her right hand disappeared under her cloak.   

Enough! Stirder ordered. This is no time for quarreling. He sighed. I'm going to have around. Stay here and try to be quiet.

Sir, yes, sir… Victoria muttered. 

Frodo, exhausted, laid himself on the ground and fell asleep after a few seconds.  

He was awakened almost one hour later by the hearth and the cracking of a fire.

What are you doing? he cried out, sitting up quickly. 

Tomatoes, sausages, nice crispy bacon! replied Merry with a smile that almost reached his ears.  

We saved some for you, Mister Frodo, said Sam, handing him a plate, but Frodo didn't care. 

Put it out, you fools, put it out! he shouted, running to trample down the flames.  

That's nice! Ash on my tomatoes! Pippin whined, trying to wipe it off.  

What's this mess? Victoria asked, coming out from another room right in that moment. Just a glance at the smoking ashes of the hearth was enough to understand.   

You little… she started, looking menacingly at Merry and Pippin, but she never finished. An inhuman, piercing scream ripped the air, freezing their blood in their veins. They ran to the border of the hill just in time to see four black-cloaked forms gliding toward them in the mist, silent and horrible as ghosts.      

Wha-what are those? Victoria whispered, scared.  

Frodo unsheathed his sword and caught the girl's arm at the same time. Go!

They hurriedly climbed a stair to the very top of the tower. They were trapped. There was no escape from there. Panicked, confused, lost, they turned everywhere to see the attackers arrive, to try to drive them back…and finally they came. They emerged from the darkness, darker than shadow itself, with the striding creaking noise of their footsteps on the stone and the screeching of metal against metal. The Hobbits and the girl backed away, the first scared, the second staring at their aggressors, trying to understand…

Back, you devils! Sam shouted launching  himself at them, but his blow was easily parried. The Hobbit was thrown aside, soon followed by Merry and Pippin. Now there were only Frodo and Victoria left. A Nazgul turned toward them his horrible faceless head. The Hobbit almost dropped his sword. He backed away, but he stumbled and fell losing his only weapon. The Nazgul glided toward them. A Wraith was free with his hands to seize the girl but she quickly pulled out from under her cloak a thin wooden stick and pointed it against him shouting, _Expelliarmus_! A flash of crimson light hit him, throwing him against a column. Victoria aimed at another Wraith who was coming near Frodo and shouted, _Stupeficium_! But to her great horror, the Stunner passed through him without doing him any damage. She hadn't time to cast another spell because another Nazgul assaulted her, seizing her by her throat and lifting her off the ground. She tried to kick but it was useless. He didn't even feel her blows. The Nazgul tightened his grip on her neck, not allowing her to breathe, and raised his armed arm to strike her. Right as he prepared to bury his sword in her stomach – he was already foretasting the hot human blood that soon would have tinged with red his iron-gloved hands and his black cloak – when something unbelievable happened. The half-unconscious girl's eyes opened suddenly and rolled back, lit by a green light, and a silvery aura wrapped her body. Her left hand seized him by his wrist with unexpected strength and firmness. He didn't have time to be astonished because a flash of purple light hit him violently, forcing him to lose his grip and drop on the ground, a prey to a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time -- pain. Victoria turned to Frodo, but she saw nothing but a black knight bending down toward nothing. She felt a soft, evil voice in the air around her, but she couldn't understand its words. It sounded like an order, a call…    

Vicky, look out! Sam shouted and the girl drew aside just in time to avoid being transfixed by another Nazgul. She hit him with a Lightning making him step back, but part of her head was somewhere else. She saw Sam, Merry, and Pippin…But where was Frodo? 

She didn't know that as she fought the first Nazgul, Frodo had put on the Ring, thinking it could save him from the Wraiths. It had been like being thrown in another dimension. Everything around him, even the stones, looked violently shaken by an hurricane. The only thing he could make out clearly were the Nazgul he had hoped to escape from. Yes, now he saw them clearly and, in his whole life, he had never seen something more horrible. They were living corpses, masses of rotting flesh where the features of their old faces were still grotesquely distinguishable. He saw a strange silver light out of the corner of his eye but he couldn't mind it. The Ring's voice spread in the air and his left hand, where he wore it, rose toward a Nazgul like it had its own will. The Nazgul reached out with his skeletonic fingers to touch the Ring, but with an huge effort Frodo managed to draw his hand back. The Wraith rose and wounded him with his dagger. An atrocious pain shot through his limbs and the young Hobbit let out a heart-rending scream. 

Victoria heard that scream and recognized his voice immediately. She freed herself of the Wraith she was fighting with and her eyes, still lit by that green light, started to search desperately among the ruins but without finding anything. As the Wraith went against her again with a fellow, she felt panic growing stronger inside of her. Right in that moment, almost sent from Above, arrived Strider, his sword in one hand and a blazing branch in the other. Seeing the fire, the creatures drew back, letting out screeches of terror.   

"So, the fire can destroy them!" Victoria thought as her eyes became normal again and the silvery aura faded. Frodo's pained screams, Sam's anguished ones, and the Wraiths' horrified ones filled the air, freezing her blood in her veins.Victoria wobbled, coming back for a moment in another place and another time not very far, but pulled herself together and threw herself furiously in the battle. Strider had already set two of those beings on fire when Victoria showed up by his side, clenching a wooden stick in her hand. Go away, girl! he shouted, parrying a blow. As an answer, Victoria pointed the stick against the Wraith, shouting, _Incendio_! From its tip was given off a yellow light that clashed into the Wraith, setting his cloak on fire. She turned around and did the same with a retreating Nazgul, while the Man threw his torch against the last enemy, who was trying to go near the Hobbits. The Ranger turned to the girl, not lowering his sword. Who…**_What _**are you? he asked astonished, staring at her. 

Not now… she murmured, marching decidedly toward the Hobbits. What happened? she asked them, kneeling down next to Pippin.   

Help him, Strider, Sam begged him, as the Ranger picked up the dagger. 

He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade, he murmured as the dagger crumbled to dust. This is beyond my skill to heal, he needs Elvish medicine. 

He lifted the Hobbit, who kept screaming in pain, and launched him on his shoulder.  

Their race against time had started. 


	3. Chapter III: Race to Rivendell

CHAPTER III: RACE TO RIVENDELL 

Hurry! Strider spurred them, as they started to penetrate the woods surrounding the hill.  

We're six days from Rivendell!  He'll never make it! Sam shouted.  

Six days?! Victoria cried out. 

Gandalf… Frodo invoked. Gandalf! 

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it shaking her head. 

He's going cold. Sam told Strider. 

Frodo had stopped screaming. Now from his lips came just short moans.   

Sssh, come on, Frodo… Victoria whispered, stroking his forehead covered in icy sweat. She wanted to tell him that everything would be all right, but she didn't believe it.   

Is he going to die? Pippin asked.

He's passing into the Shadow World, Strider answered. He will soon become a Wraith like them.  

The Hobbit's body was shaken by shivers and he let out a frightened moan, who was answered by the Nazgul's screeching rattles.   

They're close, Merry noted, looking around himself. 

Sam. The Hobbit came near the Ranger. Do you know the Athelas plant?

Athelas?

Kingsfoil.

Kingsfoil…aye, it's a weed.  

It may help to slow the poisoning. Hurry. 

The two disappeared into the woods. Even if that dialogue had been said less than two meters away from her, unlike Merry and Pippin, Victoria hadn't heard it. All her thoughts now revolved around the blue-eyed Halfling. Another moan left his lips and the girl leaned toward him. 

Come on, Frodo… she whispered, wiping away the sweat from his face with her white and green scarf. Hold on, I know you can do it. 

The sound of hoofs caught her attention. Somebody was approaching. Victoria slid a hand under her cloak, the spell already on her lips, but there was no need of it. A wonderful woman dismounted from her horse and knelt down next to Frodo, calling his name and talking to him in an incomprehensible language. Strider knelt down by her side. Victoria drew back to let them tend the wounded Hobbit, but she didn't let go of his hand. Strider started tending his wound.        

He's fading…He's not going to last…We must get him to my father.

With that? Victoria interfered, nodding toward her horse. You'll never arrive there on time.  

Do you know any other way? Strider retorted. 

Victoria hesitated, a prey to an internal struggle, then she raised her head resolutely. You can bet you life.

She got to her feet and ran to her bag, from which she pulled out a broom. Before somebody could ask her what she thought she was doing, she threw the broomstick on the ground and leaned a hand above it, ordering, Up! Right under their eyes, the broom jumped in her hand and stood in mid-air even when Victoria drew her hand back. The girl took a couple of steps back, her eyes fixed on the broomstick. 

My old Stardust 7… she turned to the others. …It's not a Firebolt, but it's surely faster than any horse. 

No, said the Ranger. You don't know the way and it's too dangerous.         

It's not the first time I have flown. Victoria growled back. She moved as to go near Frodo, but the other three Hobbits came in her way. 

Mister Frodo will never go on that…thing! Sam said. 

And how can you do such a thing? You're not human! Merry added, looking at her accusingly.  

Victoria started to lose her temper. It's not about what I am or what I'm not, it's about **_him_**! If I can carry him quickly to Rivendell then maybe… 

I told you no, said the Ranger firmly, staring at her. Victoria met his gaze and understood. They didn't trust her. Maybe they even thought her an enemy. She felt an unrestrained urge to Stun them all and take the Hobbit away, but it would be useless since she didn't know the way… Frodo let out a moan. Victoria's anger exploded. It's the only chance we have! Get out of my way and let me take him. We've no time to waste!   

And who tells us that you really want to save him? Why should you? Merry asked.

Victoria turned to look at the wounded boy. Because he was kind with me… She looked at them with eyes full of despair. Please, let me take him! 

Never.

By now, tears of sadness and frustration had started falling down her face. Can't you see it? It's his only chance! I beg of you! 

All right, the woman intervened. We will go with your broomstick. 

Arwen… the Ranger started, turning to look at her, but she cut him off, using that unknown language. 

//We can trust her, Estel. I feel it.//

//Are you sure?// he answered. //Flying on a broomstick…Not even Gandalf can do such a thing and this girl who came out of nowhere…// 

//She's not evil, I can grant you. And then she's right. If she really can take us there in flight, we'll be faster. And the Wraiths will not be able to catch us. There are five of them behind you// 

The Ranger frowned. //She could really save Frodo?//

The She-Elf nodded and the Man sighed. //All right. I'll go with her to show her the way, you'll stay with the Hobbits. I'll send you some horses.//  

//It's better if I go with her.  You'd be too heavy.// Arwen argued. 

//It's too dangerous!//

I'm not afraid! Arwen replied, searching for his eyes. 

Strider looked away and turned to the girl. You! he said harshly. Can you really do what you tell?  

It's been a long time since I last flew, she replied, challenging his glare. But some things can't be forgotten.  

All right, he nodded, You'll take him. But remember, if something happens we shall hold you responsible for the consequences.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders and kept working. During that exchange of opinions, she had torn some ivy branches from a tree nearby and transfigurated them into ropes, constantly followed by the Hobbits' unfriendly glares. While Strider fetched Frodo, Arwen approached the girl. 

I'll come with you to show you the way.    

Victoria made a face. All right, as long as we hurry. She bent down and threw her one of the ropes. Here. Tie yourself up to the broomstick by your waist. Do the same thing with Frodo as well.   

Why? Strider asked, suspicious. 

Let's call them safety-devices, the girl muttered, looking away. She turned toward her broom and cast a spell, enlarging it enough so it could carry the three of them.   

We'll be a little bit packed, but it doesn't matter, she commented tying herself to her broomstick and mounting. Frodo was behind her and Arwen, who held him, was the last one.    

We shall fly above the trees… Victoria murmured. Hold tight, we're taking off.     

She pushed slightly with her feet and the broomstick took off the ground, flying higher and higher until they passed the treetops. Strider couldn't avert his gaze from Arwen's dark eyes. He watched her drifting away in the dark sky, tinged with pink Eastward.  

They were still above the camp when Victoria spoke to her. Do you suffer of vertigo? she asked the Elf, swallowing hard and staring straight ahead.    

Ver…?

Fear of looking downward from a great height.  

No, I think I don't. Arwen replied, confused. 

Good. Then you shall look down to keep an eye both on our route and those black-cloaked things.  

All right, she replied, holding the small Hobbit tight. 

Let's go, Victoria muttered, leaning forward on her broomstick and taking off at top speed. 

At first Arwen was dazed by the harsh departure and the speed. In her long life she had never suspected that it could be possible to move so quickly. The air slid over them, the earth ran away under their feet.   

Which way? Victoria shouted to be heard above the wind.

Go straight on, the she-Elf replied.  

Victoria nodded and concentrated on driving. Arwen watched the road below, holding the small Hobbit tight. Suddenly, a movement among the trees attracted her attention.

Nazguls! she shouted. Below us!    

Well, I dare them to come and get us here! 

It wasn't that that worried Arwen. Frodo's conditions seemed  to aggravate when those beings where near. They flew over the open fields, the Wraiths following on the ground. Normally, Victoria could have put-distance them, but her Stardust wasn't a race broomstick, and then it was over-loaded. 

Are we close? Victoria shouted. 

Almost. Keep going. 

They kept flying. Suddenly, the broomstick started to slow down. 

What are you doing?

We're in trouble, the girl replied between her teeth. We've strained it too much.  They jolted. Is there a place where we can land?     

There! Arwen shouted On the other river banks.

Another jerk almost threw her down from the broomstick. Victoria had an hard time controlling the broom that kept slowing down and jerking.  

What river? she shouted, trying to keep the broom in the air. 

That river. 

It appeared suddenly below them, like a strip of smelted silver.    

Rivendell is close. Can't we arrive there? Arwen asked. 

No way, the other replied. Or we go down now or we'll have to out of the force of gravity.

Using all her skills, she managed to land softly on the gravelly river banks.    

Help me put him down, Arwen murmured, untying the ropes that bind them to the broomstick.  

The two women laid the moaning Hobbit gently on the ground. Victoria looked in his open eyes that didn't see anything and a cold shiver shook her.  

Can you repair your broom? Arwen asked, awaking her. 

I don't know. I can try. 

Hurry.

Victoria nodded and turned to their means of transport, fussing over it with her wand. Suddenly, they heard again that horrible screeching. On the other river banks there were the Wraiths, upright on their flaming-eyed horses.     

Give up the Halfling, she-Elf. 

Arwen drew her sword, standing on the banks between the Nazgul and her companions. If you want him, she said fiercely Come and claim him!     

The Nazgul forced their horses to get down into the river and started approaching. Arwen started murmuring some Elvish words, louder and louder. Her voice seemed to fill every molecule of air. Victoria turned to look at her, but her attention was attracted by another noise. It sounded like a thunder, no, a herd of wild horses riding at full gallop…And then she saw it. A wave of water as big as those from the Pacific Ocean was coming down the river. The black riders tried to run away, but it was perfectly useless. The wave fell upon them, routing them and sweeping them away like paper boats. She heard another sound, like someone who was choking, but it didn't come from the river…

Frodo! she shouted, throwing herself by his side.  

Oh no! Arwen wailed, joining her and seizing the Hobbit by his slight shoulders. No, no…Frodo…Frodo, don't give in…Not now… 

 She held him to her chest, murmuring a prayer to the Immortal Valar. Her supplication was granted. They had time still, but they had to hurry. 

Jump on, quick! Victoria shouted her, mounting on her broom. Arwen took Frodo in her arms and ran to sit down behind her. They took off immediately.

The city is close. Just a few minutes and we will be there!

Victoria didn't reply, concentrating on going faster. 

Here it is!

Finally, the beautiful Elvish city stood right in front of them, leaning against the mountains side.  

My father is there, Arwen shouted, pointing to the palace. We have to land. 

We have not time! Victoria replied, flying right toward a window. Half a second before the impact, she threw herself backward, shielding Frodo from the glass splinters. This time the landing wasn't as easy as the previous one, but the women managed to protect the wounded Hobbit.  

Arwen? asked Lord Elrond, approaching them What…?

I shall tell you later, Father. Frodo has been wounded by a Morgul blade. His conditions are very serious.

Elrond nodded and gave some orders to his guards before going off with the inert Halfling in his arms.  

Where are they taking him? Victoria murmured, trying to get back to her feet. What are they gonna do to him? 

Arwen stopped her before she could follow them. Everything will be fine, you must not worry. They will take care of him.

Victoria watched as they disappeared in the corridor and prayed. 

Arwen turned toward one of the maids who trembled in a corner and talked to her decidedly in Elvish, then she turned to the tired girl, using the Common Tongue. Come, you must rest. You must be exhausted, young sorceress. 

No, no… Victoria murmured, freeing herself from the She-Elf's grip. I'm fine…I must…wait for the others.  

But…

I wanna be the first thing they see when they arrive, she replied firmly, trying to shake off  the numbness that assaulted her. They must see…that I kept my promise.  

Arwen eyes softened. So it will be, girl. When the  sentinels inform us of their arrival, I'll call you immediately. So you will wait for them by the gates. But come, now you must rest. It'll be a long time before they arrive. Come. She lead her away.

Liked it? Hated it? Leave a review and let me know. 


	4. Chapter IV: Days of waiting

Author's note: Hi everybody! I just to thank all who reviewed: 

Alassea: I'm flattered…Anyway, Alanna Aurdomiel is writing a witch-from-Hogwarts-goes-to-ME. I suggest you to have a look at it for it seems good, though she has published only two chapters, by now. 

Alanna Aurdomiel: wow, thank you! I'm so glad you like her! I saw you fiction and I hope you'll update soon too. 

xoulblade: Here's a new one for you 

Lady Phoenix Slytherin: Thank you very much! 

To every reader and every reviewer: As I said in the "default chapter", I'm not English nor American. I'm translating this fiction from Italian, my native tongue, and when I finish translating a chapter I send it to my dear and wonderful beta-reader Daughter of Olorin. She reads it, corrects it and sends it back to me, so I correct my mistakes. As you can guess, this requires some time. I'll try to update as soon as I can, but anyway, don't you worry: I have already written the whole fiction in Italian – and its the second part, too… - so I won't just let this drop. 

We ain't risking any writer block. Maybe some "translator block"    

Now enough babbling and let's go on with the story…

CHAPTER IV: DAYS OF WAITING  

When she woke up, she found it hard to find her way. She didn't know where she was. Instinctively, she had thought of Hogwarts and her mind, numbed by sleepiness, had formulated for a moment a stupid thought.      

"No, if I was at Hogwarts, my roommates…" she didn't go on. She forcefully shut her violet eyes, burying her face in her hands. Even so, she couldn't avoid seeing those images again. She saw clearly the room in the dungeon with the five beds and trunks. Her ears were grazed for a moment by the soft sound of four different breaths that sleep had made heavy and regular… How many times she had fallen asleep lulled by those breaths; how many times – just the previous year, when the only other breath was Catherine's – she had found herself laying awake in her bed, listening to Catherine Dwan, the only girl left except for her, a few meters away… she thought of the long nights alone, when she was awake suddenly from her half-sleep because she thought she had heard Catherine breathing. She had never told anyone, obviously. They'd think that she was mad…No, wait a moment, they already thought so, but this time they could have locked her up in an asylum and thrown the key away if she had started telling around that every night she was lulled to sleep by her roommate's breathing. Dead people don't breathe, Victoria. She imagined them perfectly as they told her so, in that calm and indulgent voice used with children a little bit obtuse…or with lunatics. 

Slowly, she sat up with her legs crossed and leaned her elbows on her knees. And yet it was true, it was all true. She didn't imagine Catherine's breathing, it was **_real_**, just like her own…but it was useless. They wouldn't understand, they had never wanted to understand. The hell with that. It was useless bothering about it.     

She got up and walked to her trunk. With all the mess that had happened when she had taken Frodo away, she hadn't even realized that she had also took the false bag that Strider had given her… False because that was her trunk transfigurated: a simple Exchanging Spell, a Fourth-Year thing. In the clearing where she had landed, there was only an empty bag. She had cast the spell right under their eyes and they hadn't noticed… Oh, well, she did her best not to let them notice. 

She started rummaging through her trunk looking for some clothes, but her mind was elsewhere. Was Catherine Dwan still breathing in the middle of the night, down in the Slytherin girls' dorm, now that no one was there to hear her? And the others, did the others let their presence be acknowledged as well? No. She knew that they would always be wherever she was. All of them. All the twenty-nine of them.     

She prepared her clothes and went to wash herself. She was ready in a few minutes and left the room they had given her. She absolutely wanted to find Frodo, to know how he was…but how? She had glanced out of her window and, from what she had seen, the place was huge. Hogwarts' castle was a dolls' house compared to it. How could she find someone so small  like an Hobbit in such a place? And then, the only person she knew was Arwen, but then again, where could she find her?   

"Oh, the hell with that!" she thought. "I can find a way out on my own." And so she did. She spent the little time of morning left wandering around Rivendell, looking for the Halfling. Around lunchtime, she found another one who walked in the corridor leaning on a walking stick. She was puzzled, because during her travel with the Ranger and the other four, they had told her that Hobbits don't love adventures, nor leaving their homes. She stopped him almost instinctively. She introduced herself but couldn't ask him anything because he cut her off thanking her for carrying there his nephew Frodo. She asked his name: Bilbo, was his answer, Bilbo Baggins. She started. She knew that name. Once she had heard Frodo and another Hobbit – what was his name…oh, yeah, Sam – whispering it. As the old Hobbit walked her to the Dining Hall, she asked him how Frodo was. A veil of sadness fell on the old man's eyes. 

Not well, my dear girl, not well, he answered. He's fighting against the shadows.

Victoria didn't replied. Suddenly, in spite of the bright sun, she felt very cold. She didn't eat much and spent the most of her time wriggling nervously on her chair, waiting for Bilbo to finish his meal. In spite of his age, Bilbo still had an impressive appetite, just like every member of his race. Then they headed to the Last Homely House, but only Bilbo was allowed to enter. Victoria had to wait outside.            

Don't take offence at it, girl, the Hobbit told her. It's already a miracle if they let me pass… 

The girl didn't answer and the Hobbit entered the room. Victoria sat down on the threshold and the waiting started. She spent almost the whole afternoon sitting there, until Arwen herself came to fetch her.   

You asked to be informed when your companions would cross Rivendell's borders.

Victoria's face was darkened by a sorrowful shadow. They're not my companions, she muttered, angry and wounded. At least, I'm not their companion.      

I see, Arwen replied, compassionately. Would you wait for them nonetheless, like you had decided? 

Absolutely yes. 

Then come with me, I'll walk you to the gates. She turned and started walking down the corridor. Victoria could only follow her, after casting a brief glance toward the Hobbit's room and its closed door.  

The sun was setting over Rivendell when, finally, the Ranger and the Hobbits sighted the gates.   

It seems that somebody is waiting for us… Strider murmured, noticing a person leaning against one of the pillars. In spite of his excellent sight, he could only make out her shape. Duke the hawk let out a loud screech and took off from Billy's saddle, flying toward the figure against the pillar. When he landed on her shoulder, she raised an arm to stroke him.   

It's Victoria… said Merry. Then she did it, she carried Frodo here in Rivendell.  

The girl stood in front of the gates in the last daylight, her face expressionless like a statue's. They stopped in front of her, silently staring at each other. After a few minutes, the Ranger spoke in a broken voice.

Then…you did it.

She nodded slowly. Yeah, I did it. She gave him a single glance. A single glance that told more things than one hundred speeches.     

How is Mister Frodo? Sam asked, running ahead. 

They're still treating him.

What happened to your face? Pippin asked, noticing scratches and cuts already healed on her face.   

Oh, nothing, just a few cuts when we broke the window… 

Broke the window? Merry repeated hardly. 

It's a long story.

No doubt about it, the Ranger spoke up Did a healer check on you? 

No, they're too busy with Frodo and I don't wanna bother them with such a silly thing…I'll take care of it myself.  

Lady Cross, I think… he started, but she cut him off. Come on, I won't die for a couple of scratches. Believe me, I have had worse things. 

Strider looked at her in the eyes. I'm sorry I doubted you, Lady Victoria. I hope you'll accept my apology. 

No need to apologize, Strider… the girl said sadly. …I'm quite used to it.   

The Man wondered what she meant, but he decided to put his question off another time. 

We were wrong about you, Lady Victoria. I hope you won't take offence at it. Aragorn said again. 

Victoria studied him or a moment, like she was looking for clues of a lie, then, suddenly, she smiled and shook his right hand. 

I accept your apology. And no ill-feelings. I haven't been exactly…well, let's drop it. she turned around. Come, I'll show you the way. 

Strider watched her going off with the Hobbits. That girl was surely strange…And yet, now he had understood that probably she was like that because she had passed through a lot. He shook his head. He'd investigate on her past later.   

Where's Mister Frodo? Sam asked, his eyes full of anxiety. 

Victoria explained to him the way he must take and the Hobbit ran away without waiting for her. 

When finally she managed to free herself of Merry, Pippin, and Strider to reach the room, she noticed, puzzled, that Bilbo was waiting for her outside the door.  

Where's Sam? the girl asked, looking around. Maybe he got lost… 

No, Lady Victoria, Sam arrived here safe and sound…he's with my nephew now.

And didn't they kick him out? she asked, her eyes wide. 

Oh, I believe they tried…But Gamgees can be stubborn as mules when they want to. 

Victoria felt anger building quickly inside of her, but she forced herself to keep quiet. She sat down at her seat and there she stayed, unmoving, caught up in her thoughts. She wasn't trying to understand why they had left her out, oh, not at all. She didn't need to rack her brain on that matter.     

It was simple and clear. They didn't trust her. They feared she could hurt the young Hobbit. The girl clenched her fist so tightly that her nails ran through her flesh.   

_Che vadano all'inferno tutti quanti!_ [They can all go to Hell] she growled, also thinking about another time and other people. __

Bilbo threw her a curious look. He knew many languages spoken in Middle Earth and he could recognize the others from their sound, and yet he hadn't understood nor recognized the language that the girl had spoken. 

The next day, when Bilbo arrived at his nephew's room, Victoria was already sitting on the threshold. He nodded at her and then disappeared behind that damned door. Victoria sat there by herself, staring at the wooden door and waiting. That evening they let her know that there had been a clear improvement in his conditions and now all they had to do was waiting for his awakening. Victoria tried to ask if she could see him, but the healer said that only Bilbo and Sam were allowed.  Victoria and the elder Hobbit protested, but it was completely useless.    

I will tell you how he is, the Hobbit reassured before the door closed behind him. Furious, Victoria came back to her seat. It was frustrating just sitting there and doing nothing at all, unable to help. If only they have allowed her to see him… She didn't want to try some spells, not at all. She had never seen such a wound and she was afraid she could do more evil than good. But she could talk to him, hold his hand…anything not to be stuck there waiting! She tried to walk around that kind of little house (she didn't know what to call it). Yeah, there was a balcony, but to her taste it was already too high, she couldn't bring herself to scale it. She smiled bitterly. Funny, she had flown on a broomstick after more than two years, with all those things that had happened, but she didn't feel like climbing on that balcony. A shiver shook her limbs and she closed her eyes, lost in another terrible memory… The sound of footsteps awakened her. She saw Bilbo walking with difficulty toward her and she went to him, starting immediately to ask question after question. But his words didn't ease her anxiety.      

Later that evening, long after dinnertime was over, Victoria was still there, walking back and forth on that threshold, not allowed to enter. She went into the garden again, in front of the balcony. There was a window slightly open and she could catch a glimpse of a flickering light behind the half-closed curtains. She looked again at the balcony. A creeper climbed on the wall to the banisters and then the wood finely carved created enough hooks that could support her hands and feet. This time her hands wouldn't slide against cold stones. A soft, kind breeze blew and the temperature was pleasant. This time her hands and her limbs wouldn't be numb with the biting cold, she wouldn't feel her blood almost freezing in her veins. Then the height, it was so low compared to the big Northern Tower of Hogwarts. Even if she fell… 

She shook her head violently. No, no, no, she mustn't think about falling, she must not let those images invading her brain again. She approached decidedly the wall and looked around. No one, it was very late, the right time to commit her "crime." Much ado about nothing. She just wanted to see him, just for a moment but she had to see him… She wanted to see that he was still there, that he was really…really what? She didn't know and didn't care. She just wanted to see him. Her hand grazed the carved wall, almost buried under the climbing plant, and then, suddenly, gripped it strongly. She placed her foot in the conjunction between two decorative motives and she pushed herself upward, heaving herself up. She hesitated to lift the first foot from its solid support and place it higher, but she did it and repeated the same thing with the other one. But when she found herself doing the third step, things changed. Suddenly, her head started spinning, she almost felt the hooks sliding away from under her feet. 

Terrorized, she closed her eyes and pushed herself against the wall, tightening her grip until her hands started hurting. For some interminable seconds she stayed there, clinging like a survivor from a shipwreck to a piece of wreck. Then, slowly, she started going down, step by step. As soon as her feet were stably planted on the ground, she stepped back quickly and folded her arms against her chest. She was shaking. She took a deep breath, trying to get back her self-control. When she calmed down, she raised her gaze to that balcony and that half-open window.                   

I'm sorry, Frodo… she whispered, holding back her tears of anger and fear. I'm really sorry. 

She turned and ran away before she got caught there.   

Next day, she was on that threshold again. 

Merry and Pippin ran across Victoria at lunchtime. The girl ignored the furious glares they threw her. They thought it was her fault if the Elves had kindly asked them to stay away from the Last Homely House. The healers couldn't work well if they stumbled over someone every time they entered and left. The Hobbits didn't know that the girl had been asked to go away with the same excuse. She had replied that she wouldn't move an inch and she didn't give a damn if in that damned place there were the only blind Elves of the whole Middle-Earth and they should watch where they walked and think more about healing that poor Hobbit instead of bothering her.       

Victoria tried to concentrated on the food in her plate, but she couldn't. Someone was watching her, she felt it. She had become quite good in realizing when somebody watched her and especially **_how_** he watch her. From the eyes of a person she could understand a lot of things, but it wasn't a natural gift. Simply, she had learned how at Hogwarts, just like she had learned a bunch of other things that certainly weren't included in the study program. It had been a long time since she had gotten used to being followed by the people's eyes wherever she went, long before she arrived in Rivendell, where everybody stared at her because of her race and the clothes she wore. She thought about the way they stared at her at Hogwarts and a shiver ran through her limbs. Anger? Sorrow? Both? She couldn't tell it. And those eyes still on her back. She turned around suddenly and her eyes met the deep blue, magnetic eyes of a man, an old man with a long, tangled beard and long gray hair, his clothes completely gray. Who was he? Where had she met him? Then she remembered -- three days ago, when they had reached Rivendell. She had caught a glimpse of him near Frodo's room. It was him, she was sure. He was no ordinary Man, but then, nothing around her was ordinary. Yet, even in those altered conditions, she could feel his power. Earth or Middle-Earth, people's eyes never did change. Suddenly she realized who he reminded her of: Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster, the wizard who ran Hogwarts. His eyes where lighter, but the wisdom and the power she read there were the same, there was no mistake. She knew the look he was giving her and that reminded her more of the old Headmaster. He was studying her, trying to read her soul, trying to understand. For a moment, she felt like she was in Hogwarts, in the Great Hall again, sitting alone at a table meant for at least two thousand students that made her look smaller and stood out more at the same time, just like she made it look bigger and emptier merely sitting there. She pulled herself together, staring straight in the old man's eyes. A name came spontaneously to her lips. Gandalf…  she murmured. 

During the first days of traveling, they had told her of that wizard friend of the Hobbits, saying that probably he would have helped her to get back home. If it was true, than she was intentioned to avoid him as much as she can. She pushed her chair back and left the hall, taking the corridor that lead to the Last Homely House. She sat down on the threshold, as usual, and waited, cursing every blind and boring healer of every Earth.               

The fourth night fell upon Rivendell and Victoria still sat in front of the house. It was late, more than every other evening, but to do what she had planned, she needed the favour of darkness. Slowly, she got to her feet and approached the door. She pulled out from a pocket her wand and, pointing it against the hated closed door, she murmured only a word, a word that was enough to make the lock go off..   

_Alohomora_

She placed her hand on the finely carved handle and opened the door slowly, just enough to have a look inside the room. She saw some small tables against the walls, a wardrobe and Sam Gamgee sitting near the four-posted bed. His eyes were fixed on the unmoving form of Frodo Baggins, so he didn't see her watching them nor pointing her wand toward him and whispering: _Dormiat_. 

A soft, light-blue ray hit him and immediately he felt his lids getting heavy. After a few seconds, his head dropped on his chest and he fell in a magic sleep. Victoria entered the room quickly, closing the door behind her. She stood still in the dusk clutching her wand, ready to cast another Sleeping Spell, but there was no need of it. Nobody was awake except for herself and she found it really weird. Obviously she didn't pretend that Elrond himself did so, but at least a healer should watch over the sick boy. What if he got worse?  She shook her head. In spite of all the things she had heard from the Hobbits about the Elves during their journey, she was starting to think that the Immortals were a little bit overvalued. She approached the bed walking soundlessly and then she lowered her wand, letting out a small sigh. Frodo lay there, under the white sheets. She bent to brush his left hand with her fingers. It wasn't cold like when, in the woods, she had held it between her own to warm it up. She even felt a faint warmth. She smiled in the darkness and her fingers rose to brush the little Hobbit's face and dark curls. She could barely see him. Her hand caressed his cheek.

Come on, Frodo, she whispered. You've almost done it. You just have to come back to us, now.      

She leaned toward him, whispering in his ear: Next time I wanna see those beautiful blue eyes of yours open, is it clear?  

She briefly kissed his forehead and walked to the door, opening it with caution. She slipped outside murmuring _Finite Incantatem_ and closed the door behind her.   

In the room, someone, who had watched the scene unseen, passed from the darkness of the corner where he had hidden from the faint light. Gandalf the Gray fixed his piecing eyes on the door where the girl had left, knitting his brows. He turned just in time to see Sam Gamgee open his eyes, a little bit dazed, and his frown deepened. Who can do such a thing? he wondered. 

The next morning, Victoria awoke later than usual. The previous night she had stayed awake for a long time before coming into action and, once she came back to her room, she had had an hard time falling asleep. Even now, as she had breakfast in the great hall, dark thoughts and memories from a past that hadn't yet stopped burning troubled her mind. She tried to be cold and impassive, but she wasn't… not enough to stand all the things that had happened: at Hogwarts first, then at home and then since she had arrived in this strange place… She hadn't understood **_exactly _**where she was nor why they talked that strange language so similar to English…Well, no, actually it **_was _**English, maybe a little bit archaic and with some words from Ancient Runes. This place wasn't that bad either…if only people would stop staring at her and avoiding her like she was some kind of danger. She thought about the Hobbit that lay in the white-sheeted bed and, closing her eyes, she prayed to her God to let him get better.        

"I don't think I could last for a long time without him…" she thought and then she came round violently. "Fool! You must not grow fond of anyone, you know!" she scolded herself mentally. "You know that sooner or later they'll send you back home…" She took a sip of her hot milk "Well, the later, the better." She put down her mug and took her usual road. She sat down on the threshold waiting, but than she realized that the Last Homely House was strangely quiet. She leaned against the door and realized that it was open. When she came in, she almost had an heart attack: the House was empty. Frodo wasn't there anymore. She ran outside, wandering in the passages looking for Arwen. Surely she would know… She ran, feeling her heart pumping in her chest, a cold terror seizing her mind. She tried not to think about that night, four years before, when she had been all over Hogwarts' castle uselessly, looking for another missing person that was very dear to her – but it was hard, very hard. She heard laughter and slowed down. She knew those voices. They belonged to Merry, Pippin and Sam… She ran to them and found them in the Eastern court. As soon as they saw her, they stopped laughing, but she doubted it was for the anger she showed.   

Where's Frodo? Where did you take him, what did you do to him?   

Why should we tell you? Merry answered, showing a courage he didn't have. 

Victoria had always had a short temper and recently she had gotten worse. She seized the Hobbit by his arm and shook him violently, furious.  

Damn it, what else should I do to prove to you that I'm one of you? Tell me where Frodo is, I wanna know it **_now_**!

Victoria? called an uncertain voice on her right. The girl turned around and found herself face to face with the person she was looking for. 

Frodo, you're… she couldn't go on, overwhelmed with emotion. 

Awake? he replied, raising an eyebrow. 

He motioned to her to come near. Please, come, I need to talk with you.

Behind Victoria's back, Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Frodo silenced him with a stern look.  

Still quite upset, the girl approached him and they both went off into Rivendell's gardens. The Hobbit looked quite serious, but she couldn't help but feeling on cloud nine. He was awake. He was fine. Yet suddenly, a new thought hit her like a lightning hits a tree. She had waited for his awakening for so long, sitting on that threshold all those days, worrying like she hadn't done since Draco was there with her…and when he had finally awoken, no one, no one had bothered to tell her and end her torment. Her heart sank.  

Loved it? Hated it? Leave a review so I'll know. 


	5. Chapter V: Meetings and explanations

Hi everybody, reader and reviewers alike!

Alassea: they're quite hard with her because they aren't sure if they can trust her yet. After all, she's a stranger who came literally out of nowhere: for all they know, she could be working for Sauron. Anyway, in this chapter she's going to gain a new ally.  

Kurleyhawk: don't you worry, I won't quit it halfway…also because the Italian version is already complete, so I don't risk any "author's block" 

So, here's a brand new chapter. Finally, Boromir comes into the picture…

CHAPTER V: MEETINGS AND EXPLANATIONS 

Are you all right? Frodo asked, noticing that Victoria's features had suddenly darkened.

Yes and no, she replied. I'm glad you're awake, but…well…   

But?

But I would have liked it better if somebody had told me, that's all! 

Frodo stopped suddenly. They…they didn't tell you? Victoria shook her head and he frowned. I'll have to speak with them…

Drop it, it's not worth the trouble. I should be used to it by now… 

No way! the Hobbit replied firmly. I mean, you saved my life. Gandalf told me that if we had been a few hours later, they couldn't do anything. I'm in great debt to you.

Victoria looked at him with her violet eyes and suddenly she smiled. No, you don't owe me anything.  

Yes, I do. I met Bilbo…he told me you waited for me to wake up outside the Last Homely House's door, all this time. They had no right of leaving you outside or not telling you of my awakening.

He tried to meet her eyes, but he couldn't, because she had bowed her head.

Are you all right? he asked, apprehensible. Did…did I say something wrong?    

No, no…I…I don't know how…

You don't have to tell me anything. He cut her off gently. 

The kept on walking, then Frodo asked her a certain question. Tell me…is it true that you carried me here flying on a broomstick?  

Yes, I did. Why?

Oh no! I flew in the sky and I don't remember anything! he muttered, frowning. But maybe we could…

Victoria shook her head. No, I'm sorry. My Stardust is definitely broken. It wasn't meant to fly so fast and for such a long time.  

Oh, I'm really sorry! Frodo said, mortified by the idea of causing her damage. Can you fix it? 

Victoria shook her head. No, I don't know anything about magic brooms… Suddenly, a shadow fell on her face, her eyes became distant. Mark…Mark did know a lot about magic brooms, not me…and now he's not here anymore.   

Noticing her sorrow, Frodo tried desperately to change the subject: Oh, look! he said, running on a balcony that opened on to Rivendell. Isn't it wonderful? He turned around and saw that Victoria had stayed back on the balcony's limit. He motioned for her to come near. Come and see! There's a beautiful view from here.

Victoria shook her head fiercely, stepping back. No, I… I've already seen the…the view and I think… I think I'll stay here. 

Frodo watched her closely. She looked almost… scared. Before he could understand what was wrong, an Elf appeared. Lady Victoria Cross, Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you privately. Pray follow me. 

Victoria sighed. See ya later… She waved  at him, following the Elf. 

Frodo stood there, alone, watching her going away. He felt terribly saddened. He had just make another mistake. 

Victoria didn't know, but he had been disappointed when he had awoken and, asking for her news, Sam had answered him, Oh, well…she's not here now. When he had asked the others where she was, he had received only vague answers. Mah...boh…well…around here…it's been a while since we last saw her. He had felt a great, inexplicable sadness, but he had been so happy when Bilbo had told him that Victoria had spent all those days outside his room, never leaving her place. Then, when his uncle had told him **_what _**exactly she said to those who had tried to drive her away and had described him the Elves' faces, he had laughed so hard that he almost cried. He pulled himself together and decided to look for his three friends. He was going to rebuke them severely   

At the same time, Victoria sat in Elrond's study, in front of the Lord of Rivendell himself and Gandalf the Gray. The two wise men had explained to her where she was and how things were going in Middle Earth (well, except for the whole One Ring part), and now they waited patiently for her reaction. The girl was silent for a long time, until Gandalf decided to break the silence: Now can you explain to us how you got here?  

Victoria answered slowly, almost weighting her words. I have some theories about it, but no certainness. You see, when I was in my world, I was using the Floo Powder, it's a kind of magic powder that allows us to travel via chimneys. Right when I was saying my destination, I thought that I'd prefer being in any other place…and then I was here.   

Is this Floo Powder so powerful? the wizard asked again. 

The girl shook her head. No, not at all. Maybe I accidentally passed though a portal that took me in a Parallel Universe, I don't know.   

Aye, Elrond nodded This seems quite plausible. But you haven't answered the most important question yet. He looked at her with his piercing gaze. Who or what are you exactly? Beware, the Man you call Strider has already told us what happened in Amon Sul.

I told you. I'm human… she took a deep breath. …and a witch. 

A witch? So young? Lord Elrond asked doubtfully. 

I don't know how it works around here, but in my world wizards and witches are human like the others, they're not like your Istari. 

I see. Gandalf murmured Well, young witch, now tell us something about you. 

Victoria lowered her eyes. What do you want to know? My name is Victoria Cross. I was born seventeen years ago in a city named Turin, in a country named Italy. And before you ask me on which side I am, if yours or those dark wizards you call Sauron and Saruman's one, let me tell you something. In my world, they're fighting against a Dark Lord as well. The war broke out almost four years ago, when I was thirteen. My parents worked to fight that Dark Lord and now they're both dead. Many people I used to know died because of that slimy worm. For reasons too long to explain, many people think I'm on his side… She raised her voice and looked at them with pride. …but I'm not and I'll never be! I'd rather be eaten by a dragon!    

Calm down, girl. I'll try to find a way to send you back… Elrond started, but he was cut off. 

Send me back? Victoria cried out, clenching  the chair she sat on. No, never. Throw me down a tower, hang me, cut me into pieces, throw me in jail, bury me alive if you want, but don't send me back to Hogwarts!     

Hogwarts? Gandalf asked. Strider told us it's your school and the place where you were going. You'd rather stay here in danger, instead within safe walls? 

Victoria threw him a dirty look. Hogwarts' walls are called safe in my world as well, but to me, they're everything but safe. I hate that place.

Elrond sighed tiredly. Would you explain yourself better?  

No. The reasons why I don't wanna go there are only mine and I don't wanna talk about them. She rose from the chair. I'm only asking you to let me stay here. I won't be nuisance and I can earn my living by working… 

You're a witch… Gandalf spoke up. Maybe your arrival here isn't so casual as you believe. Maybe you can help us. 

A girl can't possibly compete with the traitor's arts, Gandalf, Lord Elrond said. 

No, of course, but I think that…

Hey, listen, Victoria interrupted them, quite annoyed. If it's about kicking some Dark-Wizard-my-foot's ass, then you can count on my wand. I'd rather fight here with you than come back home, where I couldn't do it. You just have to let me stay here.    

The angles of Lord Elrond's mouth curled downward: We shall talk about this  later. Now, Lady Victoria, would you let us alone, please? We have many things to discuss.

Victoria nodded and left wordlessly, closing the door behind her. 

//Did you see the ring she wore on her finger?// Lord Elrond asked, turning to the wizard. 

The other nodded slowly. //Yes, I saw it. And I think exactly the same as you do.// 

//So, the Last Ring has come back to Middle Earth…// Elrond murmured //Salazar kept his promise. The Slytherins come back to our aid.//  

//Yet this girl doesn't know of the ring, nor of his power…// Gandalf noted. 

//This is true, but she doesn't seem too anxious to come back to her world.// Elrond reminded him.

//We can't force her to fight, she's just a girl. But…// 

//But?// The Lord of Rivendell asked.  

//She hides inside herself many tears and a bitter past…but also a great power. I think she'll play quite an important part, especially in the life of young Frodo Baggins// Gandalf the Grey murmured deep in thought.    

Victoria went downstairs quickly and came out in the central court when she heard horses approaching. She raised her gaze and she saw some Men coming in on horseback from one of the lateral entrances. Standing under the arcades, she watched them closely. One of them especially caught her attention. He must have been between thirty and forty years old, dressed in dark and heavy clothes, his dark blonde hair reached his shoulders and, with a fierce demeanor, he looked around amazingly and diffidently. Maybe feeling her eyes on him, he turned toward her and their eyes met. Not knowing what to do, Victoria waved at him and he nodded to her. He dismounted and, after leaving his horse to a stable boy's care, he exchanged some words with another Elf, who was there to show him and the other Men the way. But, as he walked away, he cast her another quick glance over his shoulder. Victoria briefly nodded to him and then headed toward the gardens. She didn't hope to find Frodo there, but she just wished to spend a little time on her own there. After wandering around for a while, she sat on a bench under an unknown tree and closed her eyes, drowning in the peace and the bird's songs. For the first time, she felt again almost fine. Not fine, just almost.      

The girl was not aware that at the same time the thought of her occupied not only Frodo's mind – who was trying to come to terms to her departure – but also the mind of the Man she saw in the court, even if in a very different way. The man in the courtyard was Boromir, son of Steward of Gondor, come to Rivendell because of a dream. Right in that moment, he was pacing the room they had given him, restless and worried. Many cares ran through his mind and the thoughts of his people, who fought, suffered and died in Gondor, didn't leave him any rest. He was forty-one and he couldn't remember a single day of peace. Finally, he sat at the table to write a letter to his brother Faramir, who stayed in Minas Tirith. He wrote him first of the Council that would be held the next day and he was going to attend with the other Men who had come with him from Minas Tirith. Then he described to him the beautiful Elven city.  

"_It seems that the war hasn't reached yet this place of the world,_" he wrote "_Yet, I can't stop thinking about Gondor, about my people. They are always in my heart and on my mind._" He stopped for a moment, thoughtful, then he went on. "_Arriving, I had a strange meeting, if you can call it so. When I arrived into the courtyard, I felt a pair of eyes watching me and, turning around, I saw a girl under the arcades openly staring at me. I watched her back and she didn't lowered her eyes, nor ran away. Instead, she waved at me. She wasn't one of the Immortals, but a human girl, even if I would have never guessed by the clothes she wore. I've never seen clothes stranger than hers, she even wore a pair of trousers! She was little more than a girl, around twenty, quite tall, with dark brown hair and violet eyes. It was her eyes that attracted my attention. They reminded me of the eyes of my people, not because of their color but for their look. It was the typical look of who has seen and lived many cruelties, of who has seen Evil more than once._" He sighed sadly, remembering all those similar looks he had seen. "_No one so young should have that look, and yet in our beloved Country it can be find even in children's eyes. But that girl is not from our Country… I wonder where is her home and what happened to her. I asked questions about her and they told me she's an Enchantress with a sharp tongue, who doesn't care about anyone's rank. I hope to talk to her and get to know her better, because I'm not sure that the girl I saw fits the description they made of her. In her eyes, beyond sadness, I read strength and pride, maybe also a certain impertinence. It's true, but I want to know more about her._"      

He finished his letter in a few minutes and sealed it. He would send it later. He left his room and started wandering in the city. At the same time, Victoria rose from the bench underneath the lumbering tree and decided to go back to her own room. Sometimes, when she was alone in an open space, she felt again that anguish, that indefinable fear that drove her to seek refuge between four solid walls. Even the strength and the magic that filled the Elvish city's atmosphere weren't enough to cure the wounds of her soul. She managed to control her pace for a few meters, but, as soon as she was outside the garden, she started running.   

Boromir descended slowly one of  the numerous stairs. He was lost in his thoughts, but part of his mind registered the sound of footsteps approaching nonetheless. It must be somebody who belonged to the race of Men, because everybody knew that Elves walked without producing the faintest rustle. Suddenly, the mysterious Enchantress appeared from out of a corner and ran upstairs, taking two steps at once, her head bowed. Just a couple of steps separated them when she stumbled on a step and started falling. Instinctively, Boromir caught her by the shoulder, supporting her and not letting her fall. The girl raised her head toward him, whispered her thanks and ran away. The son of the Steward of Gondor followed with his eyes. He could almost swear he had seen tears in her eyes…tears, and something else he couldn't identify. The girl's footsteps faded into the passages and the Man of Gondor walked away. 

Many hours later, Victoria was in her room, standing in front of her open trunk. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed nervously. The feast in Frodo's honor would start in a few minutes and she didn't know what to wear. It was really frustrating! Had it depended on her, she would have worn one of her usual skirts, maybe a miniskirt, or simply a pair of elegant trousers…but obviously she couldn't. Biting down on a nail nervously, she turned toward the brown package. She revised mentally all her other possibilities, but finally she surrendered. There was no choice, she had to open it.      

A few minutes later, Victoria entered the great hall where the banquet would be held. She knew that this time she couldn't simply sit down at the first free seat she found, so her eyes roamed through the Hall in search of the Hobbits. She saw Sam, Merry and Pippin but unfortunately Frodo wasn't with them. As soon as they saw her, they threw her the dirtiest looks they could muster. She looked for Frodo and saw him sitting at one of the long tables, near the Wizard. He was staring at her and she waved at him. The Hobbit pulled himself together and cast her an apologetic look, unfortunately it didn't depend on him. Victoria was starting to feel like a perfect idiot standing there in the doorway like a statue, waiting for God-knows-what, when someone tapped softly on her shoulder. She turned around and found herself face to face with the Man she had seen in the courtyard that morning and who hadn't let her fall on the stairs.      

May I have the honor to escort you, milady? he asked her, giving her his arm. There's a free seat at our table. 

Victoria cast a brief glance toward the Hobbits, who were still glaring at her, and answered. With pleasure, thank you. she said, taking his arm and letting him guide her to the table. 

The man pulled out a chair to her and then sat down by her side. 

Victoria smiled at him. This is the second time you help me today, yet I still don't know who you are or what your name is…

I'm the son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor.

This doesn't answer my question.

My name is Boromir. May I have the pleasure to know yours? 

Victoria Cross of the Lost House of Slytherin, she answered instinctively. As soon as she realized what she had said, she'd have bitten down on her own tongue, but then she thought that to him it was just a meaningless title. And then it was what she was, no? 

They told me you're an Enchantress… Boromir said, forcing her to come back to reality.  

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. I don't feel like talking about it right now…

Then I shall not question you, he replied before changing the subject Some water?

From Lord Elrond's table, Frodo's eyes never left them. When Victoria had come into the hall, he couldn't have helped but staring at her. She wore a dark green dress, like the grass in certain lawns, with a belt made of silvery diamonds at her waist. To him, she looked more beautiful than the Evenstar herself…as soon as he saw her, his heart had started pumping in his chest and he had felt strange, especially when she had met his eyes and waved at him. He hadn't miss the glares his friends were casting her, nor the lost expression she had had for a moment on her face. He had felt terribly angry, but it had been worse when a Man had approached her and escorted her to his table. In that moment, he had felt like he was literally burning inside, like an evil fire, whose exact name he didn't know or didn't wish to say, was consuming him. While he watched them chatting whole-heartedly, he tried to understand why he felt so bad and which strange feeling had invaded his soul. Truth to be told, the answer was very simple and it was right under his eyes, but he refused to see it. He was jealous. He often cast Victoria some brief glances. Suddenly, he saw her face with an expression he had never seen before…something that told of a pain deep as the sea and infinite as the sky, that was almost impossible to measure. He frowned: what did that Man say to her? If he had offended her, then… He looked at Victoria again. Everything looked normal…and yet, from that moment, he never tore his eyes away from her. He couldn't help but wondering what had happened…     

It had all started causally, from an observation he had made about the dress she wore when he had told her – answering her question – that those girls where looking at her that way because they had never seen a dress like that. He had added that she must not worry because it suited her very well. Victoria's face had changed. It was like she had suddenly drifted away from that hall, from that table, to find herself in a distant memory… or maybe not so distant. She had ran her hand on the fabric, murmuring in a low voice. 

My mother… my mother was really keen that I had a pretty dress. I remember that she took me to the tailor when I came back home for the Summer holidays… It was one of the last things we did together. I remember that we fought over the color of the fabric. She wanted it to be lilac, like the old one… But I wanted it to be green. Green or silver: my House color. She lowered her eyes on the skirt, sighing. I should wear it at the end of the school year, at the Seventh Year Prom…but I don't think I will be able to go.     

I'm sorry. Boromir whispered, covering her left hand with his own, big and calloused from wielding a sword.  

Victoria raised her gaze on him. You mustn't. Many people will be glad that I'm not there… She realized she had said too much and hurriedly changed the subject. But let's not talk about these sad things! Do you think we'll hear the Elves singing tonight? During our journey, Sam never stopped talking about it. They started chatting, but in spite of the tranquility she showed, Boromir noticed perfectly that hint of sorrow that still shone in her eyes. 

At the end of the feast, they went into another great hall nearby and singing and dancing began. 

Victoria sat in a corner on her own, staring at the couples that glided on the floor and unconsciously keeping the beat with her foot.  

Boromir, who was speaking with some of his men, couldn't help but watch her. He could read on her face that she wanted to dance… and there was something else, something less clear. He knew that not having someone who invited her to dance was a terrible shame for every kind of girl, but he was sure that this wasn't Victoria's case. She looked caught up in a distant memory again. He excused himself from the others and walked across the hall. While the musicians played a new, faster song, he stopped in front of Victoria, holding his hand out to her. 

May I have the honor of this dance, Lady Victoria of Slytherin?   

Victoria looked at him like she couldn't believe it was true and then, hesitantly, took his hand.  

I don't know if it's a good idea, Boromir… she said doubtfully as he led her to the dance floor. I mean… I don't know how you dance around here…and the last time I danced…

Do you want to do it? he cut her off. 

Yeah, but…

Then there is no excuse. 

He put an arm around her waist and took her hand into his own, leading her between the fast notes. In half a second, Victoria was completely lost in the dance. It had always been like that. She loved dancing and it took really a short time before she let everything go and flew away, forgetting the rest. It was easy, very easy. The music reminded her of those Irish dances she had tried to dance to so many times in her room, her eyes closed and holding in her arms an invisible partner. The new couple had caught the attention of Frodo and Strider. Their eyes were fixed on Victoria's face, that now looked very different. The umbrageous, dark girl had vanished, replaced by a happy, bright girl. Especially to Frodo's eyes, in that moment Victoria was but a shining being made of light. If only it had been him to make her dance like that, to make her twirl in his arms… Victoria and Boromir danced another three songs and then, when a slower one started, they both left the dance floor.      

Thanks! Thanks a lot! Victoria said enthusiastically, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him twice on his cheeks. Then, to her disgrace, she added a sentence she had better keep for herself. You saved my life. She stepped back Now… I have to go… 

Are you already tired with dancing?

No, I mean, yeah….well, it's just that… I gotta go. She turned around and walked away quickly, disappearing in the crowd. 

Boromir followed her. Apart from that sentence, the look he had seen in her eyes had caught his attention. He saw her in the garden, standing under the moonlight and watching the sky above. He tried to approach her as soundlessly as he could, but she heard him nonetheless.

I don't want to bother you… he told her when she turned. I just want to be sure that you're fine.

More or less, Victoria murmured, raising her eyes to sky again. 

Boromir sat down on the border of a fountain near her, without stopping to watch her. After a few minutes, the girl spoke again.

You know… I was thinking about my first ball, she said. The Yule Ball… when I was a Third-year. Theoretically, I shouldn't have been there because it was for students from the Fourth Year up, but Draco convinced Adrian to let me slip in, pretending I was his lady. She shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. Unbelievable but true, they fell for it. I'd never bet that they would. Her smile faded. Tonight it was like coming back to four years ago…when I sat in a corner, waiting for Draco to ask me for a dance… She stopped and Boromir couldn't help but asking her.      

And he came?

Victoria nodded. Yeah…he came. Her voice was strange, and sad. And in spite of the beginning…not very enjoyable, that was one of the most beautiful evenings of my life. 

I can't understand… Boromir murmured. Judging from what you said, it seems a beautiful memory, and yet it makes you sad…Why?

Victoria turned slowly to look at him. Her gaze was lost, sorrowful, and yet there were no tears in her eyes. She answered in a broken voice.  

Sometimes it is the most beautiful memories that hurt you the most.    

They were silent, both caught up in their own thoughts, until Victoria pulled herself together and moved as to go away, but the future Steward of Gondor's voice stopped her. 

Where are you going?

To sleep. 

He got on his feet and came near her. Allow me to escort you to your rooms.

There's no need off it, really…I've already…bothered you enough. 

Not at all. I insist.

Victoria sighed. As you wish.

They walked silently in the passages. Victoria kept casting brief glances to her escort. Finally, in front of her door, Boromir asked her. May I ask you a personal question? 

Victoria looked at him sideways. Yeah, but I avail myself of the faculty of not to answer. 

Why did you keep looking at me? It almost seemed like you are not used to being escorted…

Well…More or less. I remember… At those words, Boromir wondered if he had touched a nerve. …when I was in my First Year, there was a horrible monster in my school. It could kill  people with a simple glance and even if they didn't looked at him directly in his eyes, they were petrified. Theoretically, I had nothing to be afraid of, 'cause my parents were a Wizard and a Witch, both pureblood, and the monster was after M… students born from normal human parents and  half-breeds. Yet, Draco came to wait for me after every class and escorted me to the next one. She smiled. I tried to persuade him that he didn't have to do it, but once he got something in mind…

I hope I didn't cause you any more sorrow…

No, don't you worry. Sorry if I annoyed you with my memories, I…

He didn't let her finish. Lady Victoria, I know you're a strong girl… But you're also far away from home and alone. If you ever need anything…Remember that I'll always be there for you.   

Victoria smiled at him. Thanks. I appreciate a lot what you're saying. 

Boromir caressed softly her head. Now go to sleep, a long day shall await you if you are attending the Council tomorrow.   

So, good night.

Sleep well.

Victoria smiled at him and disappeared into her room. Boromir walked away in the passage toward his room, thinking about that strange girl and trying to recompose all the pieces of the mosaic she was.  

He was certain about one thing only: he would not let her be alone. 


	6. Chapter VI: The Council of Elrond

Hello to readers and reviewers…

Alassea: don't you worry, this is not a Boromir romance. He and Victoria will be very close and he'll feel very protective toward her because she's so young and she's a girl, but that's all. I knew that the last chapter could cause some misunderstandings, all my beta readers told me so, but I didn't know how to change it so in the end it's only my fault.  Anyway, thanks for your advices, I liked your argumentations. Hope to hear from you again and that you'll like this chapter. 

CHAPTER VI: THE COUNCIL OF ELROND 

Just a few minutes were left before the beginning of the council summoned by Lord Elrond. Almost all the convoked were present and only four chairs were still empty. One of them belonged to the Lord of Rivendell. Preceded by the ticking of her heels against the stone floor, Victoria came out from the main corridor and crossed the circle, sitting down on one of the empty chairs. As she walked by, she was followed by everyone's puzzled looks. The men were astonished by the presence of a woman – a girl – in a meeting so important and by the clothes she wore. Only Strider had already seen them before. Victoria had decided to wear her school uniform without the gray pullover. 

The girl let her gaze wander among the people there. She saw Boromir and Strider, some Dwarfs, and other Elves… Her eyes were lazily running along the line of the Elves from Mirkwood, when suddenly they grew wide with astonishment, her heart started pounding in her chest while a myriad of images crowded her mind.          

_Oh mio Dio… Non è possibile…_ [Oh my God…It's impossible…] she murmured in Italian, staring at one of the Elves, who was speaking with his companions.    

Maybe feeling her gaze on himself, the Elf turned and met her eyes. Victoria sighed with relief. The Elf's eyes were blue, not gray as she had feared, and there were other wrong details, like the dark eyebrows instead of blonde ones and the lighter hair and the face… Victoria lowered her eyes, staring at the floor without really seeing it. The resemblance was minimum, almost imperceptible, and yet for a moment… She shook her head.

"Don't be stupid, Torey," she scolded herself mentally, using unconsciously the nickname **_he_** always used…       

Right in that moment, luckily for her, arrived Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and Frodo, who sat down next to her. Elrond stood in front of the high bench and Gandalf took the last untaken seat at Frodo's left. 

The Council had started. 

 Victoria leaned against the back of the chair and crossed her legs, resolute not to miss a single word. 

Lord Elrond looked at the circle of chairs, watching briefly all the people who had answered his call, and finally broke that silence full of expectations.   

Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the treat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction, none can escape it. 

Victoria saw Strider and the Elf that had caught her gaze exchanging a brief glance, but she turned back to the Lord of Rivendell immediately. 

You will unite, or you will fall! Each race is bound to this fate, to this one doom. He turned to the Hobbit who sat by her side. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo. he requested, waving toward a stone table that stood in the middle of the circle. The Hobbit, slightly nervous, did what he had asked and then came back to his seat.   

Immediately a wave of whispers and murmurs broke out. Victoria looked at the men commenting among themselves and turned to watch the ring. 

"All this mess for a ring?" she couldn't help but thinking, but suddenly the image in front of her eyes changed. Instead of the Ring on the half-column, she saw an obelisk standing on a pedestal, with an iron globe on its top. Yes, there was no doubt. The evil presence was the same, but at the same time it was different. She brought a hand to her chest and forced herself to breathe slowly. Frodo looked at her with worry, but, with a brief nod, she told him that everything was fine. 

…a gift to the foes of Mordor! Boromir's voice brought her back to reality. Why use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay! By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!

Strider spoke up: You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master. 

And what would a Ranger know of this matter? Boromir shot back, irritated. 

The blonde Elf sprang on his feet, furious. This is no mere Ranger! he said vehemently. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance. 

Victoria raised her eyebrows. Definitely, she didn't understand a lot. 

Aragorn? Boromir repeated, his voice a mixture of incredulity and troubled spirit. This is Isildur's heir? 

And heir to the throne  of Gondor, the Elf specified coldly.   

//Sit down, Legolas// Aragorn murmured as conciliatory move. 

Boromir watched one, than the other. Gondor has no king…Gondor needs no king. 

The Elf glared at him, but before they could go on – and eventually come to blows – Gandalf intervened: Aragorn is right. We cannot  use it.

You have only one choice. Elrond backed him up. The Ring must be destroyed.  

Then what are we waiting for! grunted a Dwarf jumping on his feet and hitting it with his axe. The blade of the weapon literally exploded when it touched the Ring and an evil voice spread into the air.   

Victoria felt like a bell's clapper, her head throbbed unnaturally and she felt something (or rather somebody) struggling inside of her. 

Suddenly, she realized that Frodo had slumped down on his seat, almost in tears.  

Are you all right? she whispered to him, bending down a little bit. 

Frodo only nodded, because Gandalf hushed them nodding toward Elrond. The Elvish king had stood up and was speaking again. 

…the Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there it can be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this. at those word, the assemble became deadly silent.  

Each in turn, please, Victoria muttered acidly. 

 One does not simply walk into Mordor… Boromir murmured, a hand on his forehead. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs…There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful…It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume…Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!

That description fit Hell… and Boromir's eyes where the eyes of someone who has seen that Hell very well.      

Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? the same Elf spoke up. The Ring must be destroyed! 

And I suppose you think you are the one to do it! Gimli growled angrily. 

And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron gets back what is his? Boromir added, furious. 

I well be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf! 

Gimli's words angered Legolas' companions. In a couple of seconds, the Council had become a brawl. The "noble guests" where almost  coming to blows.   

Yet, among all those shouts and those angry voices, Victoria heard another one with sinister clearness. She had heard it just once in her life, but it had been enough. She had heard it at Amon Sul, shortly before Frodo was wounded, and now it was there again, in her head… It was a sensation familiar and different at the same time. Inside herself there was a stormy sea, she felt the waves of the soul – of the souls – smashing against each other, streams and maelstroms mixing incessantly, tearing her apart. She shut her eyes and covered her hears, trying not to see those imagines storming in her mind, trying not to hear a thing, nor the men's voices, nor the Ring's voice. All those faces, all that pain, all those screams… She was about to succumb when, suddenly, from that gale of memories, emerged something the Ring hadn't expected: the fragment of a lesson of Defense Against Dark Arts of three years ago…Three simple words: **_Imperius Curse_** and **_Dementors_**. That was why that feeling was so familiar! It was trying to use her regrets against herself, but now that she knew what to do, she wouldn't let it. She gathered all her strength and clung to those memories that were the enemy's weapon. Nor the men caught up in their quarrel, nor Frodo  who sat by her side, tormented by the same voice, realized what was going on. Victoria opened her eyes again, but this time they were rolled backward and lit by a green light, while her body was wrapped up in a faint silvery aura.      

Suddenly, the light went out, her eyes returned to normal. She was breathing heavily, but she still had her strength. Around her, they were still fighting. To her it had been centuries, but to the others a few seconds. 

The voice was still in the air. Victoria turned to Frodo and understood that the Ring had changed its target…and yet she was sure it was doing to him the same thing it had done to her. She grasped his hand and tried to whisper his name: nothing. 

Suddenly, the Hobbit rose, freeing himself from her hold, and shouted: I will take it.

"NO!" Victoria thought, but he spoke louder to be heard by the others. I will take it!

The Council fell silent. Everybody turned to look at him. 

I will take the Ring to Mordor… Thought, I do not know the way, he repeated, nervous but not hesitant. 

Gandalf sighed with sadness. I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.  

And after Gandalf, one by one, the others also came forth. 

The first one was Aragorn: If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword.

Then came Legolas: And you have my bow.

Third, Gimli: And my axe.

Fourth came Boromir: You carry the fate of us all, little one…If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done. 

Behind a bush appeared Sam and last to arrive were Merry and Pippin. 

Victoria watched them, astonished, thousand of thoughts ran through her mind like meteors. What should she do? 

"I can't let them go alone…Frodo… that Ring is so strong, he doesn't know what awaits him… But why should I give a damn about this, I'm a Slytherin, one of those 'heartless bastards', Gryffindors are the heroes…but I can't stand by and do nothing… oh my God, what should I do? Draco…"  

Thinking that name was enough to carry her away, back in time, along the paths of memory… Other names came to her lips and suddenly she understood. She rose as Elrond pronounced the fatidic words: …You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.   

Just a moment! Victoria spoke up. The tenth member is missing.

The… tenth one? And who would that be? Elrond asked, puzzled. 

It's right in front of you, the girl replied. 

One of the Elves that had come with Legolas laughed. The young witch froze him with a glare.  

Lady Victoria… Boromir intervened.  I don't think it would be wise for you to come with us.

I think that one more wand could be useful.

Impossible! You would be just… Aragorn started, but he never managed to end. 

Just what? Just a nuisance? A dead weight? Or maybe you don't trust me, eh? 

We didn't say so… Aragorn muttered.

Victoria laughed in his face a forced, unpleasant laughter. Listen, you, just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm stupid! Tell me, do you think I'm such an idiot? I understood it, what do you think, what do you all think? she corrected, staring at Merry, Pippin and Sam, who couldn't met her eyes. If you don't trust me, have at least the…courage to say so! 

Milady… Legolas tried to calm her. …I don't think you realize the gravity of this situation…

Why, they do? she replied nodding to the Hobbits. They're young, reckless, naïve and totally incapable of fighting, and yet I don't hear anyone trying the dissuade them. And by the way, I had realized that we were in shit…    

Mind your language Aragorn intervened. 

Enchantress or not, you're always a woman, and women are not meant for battle! Gimli spoke up We're great warriors and…

Victoria looked at him raising her eyebrows. Oh, yeah? Truth to be told, for being a "great warrior", you look quite small  

Legolas had to use all his willpower not to burst out laughing while Gimli almost choked with anger. Let to men men's business and return to stitch socks and… 

He didn't have time to end his sentence: Victoria seized him by his collar and lift him ten centimeters in the air until they were face to face. 

Keep on going like this and **_you_** will be the one who has to be stitched… she growled a few centimeters away from the Dwarf's face.   

All the people were astonished. They had never thought that a girl would talk in such a manner. 

Put him down, Victoria. Now, Gandalf ordered, taking a step forward.  

Do I have to? the girl replied, casting him a brief glance. As an answer, the Wizard looked at her sternly. 

Okay, okay, I'll let him go. She outstretched her arms and then let him fall on the ground.   

Victoria! Aragorn cried out, and the witch turned to him.

What? I did let him go, didn't I? 

There's no way to convince you to forego, Lady Victoria? Boromir asked. 

Let me tell a thing…Old Adrian always said that when I got something on my mind, the only way to make me change my mind was breaking my skull, then Draco replied that even that wouldn't be enough…Well, he was right. Somebody tried to break my skull, but it didn't exactly work.

You're but a harmless maiden… said Legolas Whether or not you want, I nor the others will let you come.

Harmless maiden your mother… And I really want to see **_how_** you think to stop me. I haven't laughed in a long time.       

The Elf who had giggled before rose on his feet. That was a clear want of respect to the prince and his people. He came near Victoria and seized her by the arm.

Enough, **_woman_**. You have done soiling this Council. Who can assure us that you're not a spy of Sauron or Saruman? And even if you weren't, you would do nothing but put in danger the mission and our lives. Go back from where you came and learn manners before coming back, he said, shaking her violently.   

Keep your hands off of her… Boromir growled, taking a step forward to defend the girl, but she stopped him with a glance. 

Stay out of this. I can find a way out on my own, she turned to the Elf. So, mister, what's your problem? Apart from lack of intelligence, I mean… 

The Elf blushed deeply. I won't tell you anymore, **_woman_**: go away. We don't want people like yourself. You shouldn't even attend this council, never mind speaking! I can't understand why it was allowed for a stranger, a beggar and, above else, a **_female_** to set foot here!   

And I wonder where the Hell did you hide when God distributed brains! 

That was quite though. The Elf hit her with the back of his hand. Boromir was about to hurl himself at him, but there was no need of it. Before the Elf could end his nth remark on "learning-about-staying-in-her-place", Victoria broke his nose with a punch and then kneed him, catching off guard not only her opponent, but the whole Council as well. The  Elf drop on the ground in pain. 

Victoria turned to Legolas. Excuse me, who was the harmless maiden?  

The Prince of Mirkwood moved to help his companion and threw her a dirty look, but before he could speak, Elrond intervened. He dismissed the others and left the Fellowship to discuss with Victoria the decision of whether they would "take her abroad" or not. 

While the others left and the beaten Elf was taken to the healers, Legolas tuned to the young witch, glaring at her. That was a dirty trick and an unfair blow.  

It may be a dirty trick, but it got me out of trouble more than once. She cast a disgusted glance to the Elf that was going away. At Hogwarts he wouldn't last 24 hours… 

You can't knee the Orcs, **_milady_**, Legolas replied. 

Ask him how I got away with the Black Knights in Amon Sul… she said, pointing to Aragorn.   

Your magic is surely strong, but you were particularly lucky in your first battle.  

Something changed on Victoria's face. Who told you it was the first one? 

What do you mean, Victoria? Frodo asked.

That wasn't my first battle…but maybe calling "battle" what happened that night is a little bit imprecise. "Ambush" would be better, "ABOMINABLE MURDERER" better still!    

What are you talking about, lass? Gandalf asked. Explain yourself. 

Victoria sighed and came back to her seat. In Hogwarts, there were four Houses, one for every school founder: Ravenclaw the studious ones, Hufflepuff the loyal ones, Gryffindor the "brave" ones…and the Lost House of Slytherin. My House. I've always called it so 'cause nobody gives a damn about us. From our House came a higher number of Dark Wizards than from the others, so everybody hates us and disdains us. They think we're all ready to take the path of Evil. After being kicked for all your life, it's obvious that somebody has enough and tries to get revenge.        

It isn't logic at all! Aragorn interrupted her.

For you, maybe, Victoria replied. I don't expect you to understand. It's all so easy in your world… Good is white, evil is black and there's no gray. Well, in my world it doesn't work like this. **_No one _**is born evil, not even us… But if everybody tells you that you're a bastard villain Dark Wizard for too long… then you end up believing it. We've been hearing it for ages, I don't think you know what I mean. Her eyes where far away. We're the Lost House… A whole House of lost souls. Gryffindors are the heroes, but while they fight tooth and nails for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but they won't risk anything for us. We're alone to fight against the others and against ourselves… and it's a battle that many of us lose. When we start falling in the dark, no one's there to catch us.

This is the battle you were talking about? Boromir asked.

I wish it was. No, I was talking about a real battle… I remember how it was… it was…

_It was April 30th. In Slytherin,  the atmosphere was tense, everyone was on edge. A few days before, on April 25th, there had been the terrible Overthrow of York, in which Dumbledore's army had suffered huge losses. There was no one in the school who hadn't lost a relative, a friend, or just a mere acquaintance in that battle. Also the Slytherins had, but as usual the students from the other Houses disregarded this little detail. Of two hundred, only thirty were left. The others had passed directly to the Dark Side or were simply afraid to come back. A well-founded fear… _

_On the night of April 30th, after dinner, they captured Bernard Clover, a First-Year, on the way to the Common Room and forced him to open the passage, then they cut his throat. He was the first to fall. In the Common Room they found about fifteen students. The first of the attackers threw a Smokey-Bomb that allowed them to slide inside, covered by the veil of smoke. From the bathroom emerged the Quidditch Team, unarmed and half-dressed. They had just come back from a training session and had discovered that, strangely, the showers down in the locker room didn't work._

_Only when the smoke dispersed did the Slytherins see the enemy, and some of them had already fallen. The attackers hunted their pre-established targets. They started killing the most dangerous adversaries, the three Seventh-Years and then they went to the students of the lower years. _

_The Slytherins, caught by surprise and confused, reacted too late, and even then they didn't know exactly what to do. Hell broke lose. On one part there were the Slytherins who cast spells as quickly as they could or tried to run; on the other, there were the attackers with their face covereds, that killed them using simple Muggle knives. They didn't use wands because they knew that they would risk being identified.    _

_The Common Room was full of screams, voices, moans, confusion… And suddenly, on the dorm stairs, appeared a sixteen-year-old girl, frozen by horror and unable to move. _

_She was Victoria Cross._

_Wherever she looked, she saw wands, knives, people fighting, students falling on the ground covered in blood, all Slytherins. Eunice Jenkins, Fifth Year. Kevin Wolf, First. Lorelei Morgan, Fourth. Claire Ross and Alyssa Carlton, Second. Shaun Hillray, the new Seeker, Third Year. Catherine Dwan, Sixth Year, her roommate. She let out a scream and threw herself into battle, casting spells against all the hooded students, hitting them with her hands and feet when she was near them, trying to wrench them away from their victims… She didn't even realize that she was fighting alone. As she fought one of them, a second one took  her in the rear, smashing a chair on her back. _

_Victoria Cross fell on the ground like dead. In the Slytherin Common Room stood only twenty-five guys with white hoods now red with blood.   _

Maybe they thought they had broken my head… Victoria murmured, staring at floor without seeing it. She raised her eyes and tried a half-smile. But we Crosses have a very thick skull.  

No one answered. The men of the Fellowship of the Ring stared at her, shocked. They couldn't believe that some men… some **_boys_** could have done such a thing. To their schoolmates! 

Aragorn was the first to speak. Those hooded boys…did they catch them?

I'm not sure that they even looked for them, Victoria replied Remember what I said? We Slytherins are…were the villains, possible Dark Wizards, potential sustainers of the enemy. Her eyes filled with tears and she clenched her white-and-green striped scarf in her hands. A few days before this happened, there had been a discussion in the Common Room… Of the thirty Slytherins who stayed in Hogwarts, twenty-nine were ready to fight for Dumbledore, just one wasn't sure…

Who was? Legolas asked, even if he suspected what the answer would be.

Victoria raised her face. Me. I didn't think that they would have accepted us as their ally… And then, I had my reasons to be unsure.  

What reasons? To fight Evil… Gimli started arrogantly, but Victoria glared at him.

That's none of your business! I knew you wouldn't understand! And then, you see, I hadn't forgotten that it hadn't been for Adrian and Marcus and Draco and some things that happened… maybe under the black cloak and the mask of a Death Eater there would be me as well. I don't forget what dear Gryffindors and company did to Draco, nor what they did to me!  

What… Frodo started, worried, but she didn't let him go on.

It's too long to explain and I don't feel like talking about it, she sighed. Even if they chose wrong, I don't forget that Death Eaters are Slytherins, my brothers… I can't approve them, but in the end I understand them…And I really can't condemn them, nor to raise a hand against them. Well, as long as they don't attack me first. Her gaze stopped again on the Fellowship That April night I decided I wouldn't fight for one side, nor for the other.

And yet you would fight for us… said Aragorn, watching her. Why? That was your war, not this one!

Victoria got on her feet slowly. Now, listen to me carefully, Strider, or Aragorn, or whatever… Don't tell me this is not my war 'cause I'm not from around here. My war is every war I decide to fight in. Every war against evil is my war! And you won't stop me from fighting.

Why don't you understand that it won't be an easy task? It will be a hard journey, what will you do when you'll be too tired to walk?           

I never thought it was a picnic! And when I'll be too tired to walk, then I will crawl! she replied, folding her arms. You like it or not, I'm with you. I've spent too much time watching people falling into the dark, unable to do anything!

Do you think you'll be so strong? You're but a girl! Legolas said. 

Yeah, I'm a girl. I didn't even graduate. Maybe I can't do anything about it, but I can always try!  

Well, we've discussed enough. Gandalf intervened. 

His clear eyes fell on the young witch. Lady Victoria…

You told me that maybe I'm here for a reason… She cut him off, looking at him in the eye. … if it is so, certainly it's not to stand by and watch you! 

The wizard sighed tiredly. All right. You're with us.

At those words, Frodo felt torn in two. He was happy because Victoria was going to stay with them, but he was also scared that something could happen to her. He didn't know if he should be happy or worried. Merry and Pippin complained that they were hungry and finally they all headed to the dining room. 

Merry… the younger Hobbit started as they walked in the corridor About this mission…quest… thing! Anyway, about this…Where are we going?

Frodo buried his face in his hands and Victoria turned to Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gandalf. No comment…

Later, around sunset, Boromir of Gondor strolled alone in the gardens of Rivendell. Many thoughts ran through his mind and made him restless. He thought about his people, about his far away land, about his father and his brother Faramir… Part of him was glad it had been him, and not Faramir, to go for that journey. If it had been his younger brother… He didn't even want to think about it. 

Boromir was a warrior proud and strong, but the love he felt for Faramir was stronger, not to mention the love he felt for his country and his people.       

He sat on a bench and closed his eyes, letting a gentle breeze caressing his face. Suddenly, he heard somebody approaching and sitting down beside him. He opened his eyes and turned around, looking at the young witch's face. 

I'll give you a penny if you tell me.

What? he asked, confused.

What you're thinking about. "A penny for your thoughts," it's said quite common in my parts.     

I see.

So, are you going to tell me or not?

Boromir turned to look at the horizon.

I was thinking about this quest and about my home. If we fail, Gondor will be the first to fall… and nothing assures us that we will fulfill our task before Gondor falls anyway. And then there's Aragorn… he stopped. 

Come on, spit it out. Victoria spurred him .It's no good keeping it all inside… You can trust me. Whatever you say, it certainly won't be me the one to report it to Mr. Whatever-his-name-is.     

Boromir sighed. When Faramir and I where children, our mother told us the ancient legends and the history of our land, which she knew well… She told us that one day the King would come back and Gondor would live again. And we really believed it… I remember that when things got particularly bad, Faramir and I prayed to the Valar to make the king come back. We all have waited him for such a long time…

And at a certain point you stopped believing it, the girl ended his sentence for him. 

Exactly. Faramir still believes it and he's not the only one, but… in spite of everything, I can't trust him. Can you understand it? 

Perfectly, I can assure you.

I know… Boromir murmured. I know you've had your part of Hell as well… But don't you think you've seen enough of it? 

The girl looked at him sideways. Boromir, you're trying to convince me to stay here, it doesn't work. 

Please, _rei_, consider what you're doing… He started, but the girl cut him off, looking at him with confusion. 

_Rei_? 

It means "child" in the local speech of Gondor. Forgive me, but sometimes I speak in my own mother tongue.

It happens to me, too, Victoria reassured him. I think it's a kind of way to feel closer to home. 

You're very far away from yours… Don't you wish to return there? he asked her, hoping to convince her.     

Victoria turned her gaze to the horizon. It's not like I have a true home to come back to… she murmured. My mother was killed by a Death Eater on August 31st and I buried my father two weeks ago…Not that there had been much left to be buried. 

Is it possible that you have no one in the world? Don't you have friends to seek refuge?  

Victoria's eyes filled with tears. I had them once… But now they're all dead.

Even that Draco of whom you talked me about? 

He was the first, she whispered.  

You said two other names…Adrian and Marcus?

They're dead, too. I saw them for the last time at Draco's funeral… Adrian wrote me a week later to tell me he had become a Death Eater. They found him dead on March 4th last year. Marcus fell in the battle of York, fighting for Dumbledore… She turned to him …My schoolmates from Slytherin are all dead. There's no one else. I'm alone.   

Boromir put an arm around her shoulders, holding her close and murmuring in her hair four simple words: You are not alone.

Victoria clung to him, but she didn't shed a tear. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together. 

You're not alone as well, Boromir, she said, raising her head. 

The Man of Gondor looked at her closely. You're a brave girl, Victoria… Really you are not afraid of death? 

After all I went through, death doesn't scare me. For the rest, whatever will be, will be.

Finally Boromir gave up. As you wish, then. You're a girl pretty stubborn! 

I know, she replied with a vague smile. 

They fell silent for a few minutes.

Boromir… she said suddenly. Would you teach me how to fight with a sword? My wand could not be enough. 

Of course I will, but not tonight for it's too late. We will stay here for four days still. We shall meet tomorrow morning.

Thanks! she cried out, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him quickly.

When she stepped back, she took her purse and started ramming through it.  

What are you doing? Boromir asked her, puzzled.

We said "a penny for your thoughts," didn't we? I'm looking for it…

There's no need to…

Yes, it is.

She kept searching for a quarter of hour and finally she gave in: she took a small coin and handed it to him. 

I don't have one penny… Five lire**1** are the same? 

I've already told you that…

Here, take them. 

She grabbed his hand and slipped the coin in his palm, closing his fingers around it. She walked away among the trees and Boromir watched her go.  

Slowly, he opened his right hand and watched curiously the rounded coin Victoria gave him. It was small, just as big as a nail, mat and light, so light that he wondered, puzzled, of which metal it could be made of. Under a strange symbol there was carved a dolphin and on the other side there was the rudder of a boat, surrounded by strange symbols he couldn't decipher. 

He raised his gaze and looked at the place where Victoria had disappeared. In that moment, he decided that he wouldn't only teach the girl to defend herself, but he wouldn't let anybody hurt her. She had suffered enough.    

1 five lire: "lire" is the plural form for "Lira", the old Italian currency before Euro. The five lire coin hasn't been used anymore since the sixties 

Soo…Like it? (I hope so) 

Hate it? (Oh, well, sometimes it happens…) 

Anyway, let me know. 


	7. Chapter VII: A nasty joke

Hello, I'm here again…

Alassea: Banned from the internet?! What?! Why? Soo sorry to hear that – hugs Alassea – I hope it has been resolved… Anyway, there's a new update. Hope to hear from you soon.

Happy Easter everybody!  

CHAPTER VII: A NASTY JOKE 

Are you ready for your first lesson? Boromir asked, cutting through the air with his sword. 

I'm always ready! Victoria replied, unsheathing the light but strong weapon that Boromir had chosen for her.  

The Man of Minas Tirith lowered his sword and shook his head. I don't think so, seeing as you hold your sword. Let me show you… he said approaching her and correcting her hold. Now, the first thing I'll teach you is how to move and how to parry your opponent's blows…   

The lesson lasted for the whole morning. Boromir was a wonderful teacher, and Victoria was a good student. Even if she wasn't really gifted with sword-fighting, Victoria did her best and never stopped rising when she fell. 

She got back to her feet for the nth time and stood on guard in front of her opponent, waiting for him to attack. Boromir lingered for a moment, watching the girl's serious and concentrated face, then he attacked her.  The first blow was easily parried, just like the second and the third one. The fourth one was blocked with an effort,  but Boromir managed  to throw her on the ground only at the seventh blow. He was glad to notice that, even in her fall, Victoria hadn't let go of her sword. As soon as she got back to her feet, they started dueling again.   

They were in one of the courts of Rivendell that ended in a great balcony that Victoria, even when Boromir pursued her incessantly, did her best to avoid. After long hours of training, they stopped for a break.  

You're very good, _dilàrlis_. Maybe one day you'll manage to beat me.  

Who knows… By the way, what does "_dil…dilarlìs_" mean?

_Dilàrlis_…. It means "little star." I hope you don't mind if I call you so.

No, not at all… 

A strong and sudden wind tore her white and green scarf away from Victoria's hands, raising it high like a butterfly. The girl moved immediately to catch it, but the wind took it to the high balcony. Victoria stopped at the very end of the yard, staring at her scarf without taking a step ahead. Boromir came near her and laid a hand on her shoulder. He knew that something wasn't right. 

Victoria? What's happening to you, _rei neién_? he asked her, unconsciously calling her "my child". The girl didn't answer and kept on staring at the scarf. Confused, the Man of Minas Tirith walked on the balcony and bent down to pick it up, then he came back to the girl and returned it to her. As soon as Victoria had the scarf in her hands, she held it to her chest tightly, like a beloved thing, and stepped back, staring at the balcony.  

What's the matter, _rei neién_? Boromir asked again, sustaining her even if there was no need of it. Do you feel sick? Do you want me to take you to the healers? 

Victoria shook her head. No, no…I'm fine, it'll be over in a minute…

It's better if you sit down, Boromir said, taking her with unexpected gentleness to one of the benches. Little by little, Victoria's breath returned to normal, but her face was still pale. 

Do you wish to tell me what happened? Boromir asked her gently. 

Nothing. The witch shook her head It's just that… I'm utterly and completely terrified by heights. I… I can't even go on a balcony or look down from a window.

Boromir knitted his eyebrows. You looked lost in your memories again. If you think that it will make you feel better, then tell me and I shall listen.  

Victoria hesitated for a moment, then she said slowly: It's because of Draco…He died during a Quidditch match. It's the Wizards' favorite sport. She added quickly, noticing his puzzled expression, It's played on flying broomsticks, with two teams of seven players and three balls. There are three Chasers that play with the Quaffle. They must throw it through one of the three rings, that are at about 15 meters high from the ground and are defended by a Keeper. Then there's the Golden Snitch, the smallest and the fastest ball, that is worth 150 points and it's caught by the Seeker. And then… She shivered lightly. …. then there are the Bludgers. The most dangerous ones. They fly around the pitch, trying to throw the players down from their brooms. Theoretically, it would be the Beaters' duty to protect the players of their own team form the Bludgers and throw them toward the opponents. She closed her eyes, clenching her scarf tighter. It was all because of a Bludger, she murmured.

Where you there? Boromir asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.    

Victoria nodded.

It was the last match of the year, against the Gryffindors…Draco was our Seeker… he was hit by a Bludger and fell from his broom. It had already happen so many times… but that fall was fatal for him. Victoria's eyes were far away, her voice little more than a whisper. It happened almost two years ago, and yet it's like it was yesterday. I'm trying to convince myself  that, maybe, it was better that way for him… But I can't.     

Boromir put an arm around her shoulder without speaking. 

Do you know what, Boromir? The others… the others kept on telling me: "he broke his neck, he didn't even realize he was dying." She clenched her fist, her nails cutting through the flesh. Did they really think it should have made me feel better?!    

Boromir didn't know what to say and held her tighter. Victoria crouched against his side, like a little girl. 

It started like this…  she murmured, and her voice really sounded like a child's, a little, lost child. Then other things happened… 

You have spoken enough for today. I fear I was wrong to ask you to speak… Boromir said sadly. 

He turned to look at the girl's face and suddenly wondered how old she was. Sometimes she appeared older than her age, she almost looked old… Other times –like in that  moment – she looked like an innocent girl, who didn't understand why all those things had happened to her. He thought sadly that surely once, not so long ago, she had been like that and decided to ask, even if he knew that it was very rude. 

How old are you, Victoria?  

I turned seventeen on September 29th. 

Boromir was caught off guard: she was so young! Little more than a child indeed, she could have been his daughter. 

Her voice wakened him. So, let's go back to practice? I think we had enough rest! she said, rising to her feet. 

Boromir of Gondor, Captain of the White Tower, is at your disposal, my lady, he replied, getting on his feet and bowing slightly.   

Victoria laughed as she shook her head, and this time it was a real laughter. Well, almost. It reminded him the coo of a dove, it was like she hadn't laughed in such a long time that she had almost forgotten how to do it. They resumed to their interrupted fight and kept on dueling until it was almost lunchtime. 

I think it's enough for today,  Boromir said as he helped Victoria to get back to her feet Lunch will be served soon.

Okay. I'd like to refresh myself a little bit before going to lunch! She replied, dusting her bottom. 

I fear we will not be able to have our lesson this afternoon for much business awaits me, but if everything goes fine I should be free at around sunset and, if you agree, we could train again.   

Victoria couldn't hide a face. Boromir was the only one she was at ease with, Frodo excluded, and the idea of spending the whole afternoon alone wasn't exactly of her taste.   

"Oh, come on!" she scolded herself "It won't be the end of the world."

That's okay for me. See you later, then. She waved at him as she walked away. 

Boromir followed her with his eyes, thinking about what she had said. 

"Seventeen years old! That should be the age where just the most beautiful parts of the world and of the life are seen!" 

So, Vicky, what was your first lesson like? Frodo asked, blushing, as soon as the girl sat down at the table. 

Oh, that was great! Victoria replied, smiling.But it's all thanks to my teacher…

Oh, that's not true! You're good!

Victoria raised an eyebrow. 

How can you know? Did you spy on me?    

Frodo blushed crimson. No, no, I 'd never dare…It's just that… I passed near the court a couple of times and I saw you…

He didn't tell that he had taken a longer way on propose to pass there**_ casually_**.

I see. By the way, what are you going to do this afternoon? 

Well… I thought to have a look at the library of Rivendell. Bilbo told me that there are a lot of interesting books. 

Does it bother you if I come along?

W-what? Bother me? Not at all! 

Good, Victoria replied, sticking her fork into a potato. I would have come anyway.  

I knew… I hoped so. Frodo smiled at her.

The young witch found herself smiling back at him. 

As soon as they finished their meal, Frodo and Victoria rose and left the hall, headed toward the great library. Merry and Pippin followed them with their eyes and as soon as they were out of sight, they exchanged a conspiring glance.  

Let's go! said Merry with a grin. 

Sam watched them rising and going away. He was very, very worried. 

Less than an hour later, Samwise Gamgee ran at break-neck speed in the passages of Rivendell, slaloming among the Elves. Finally, he reached his destination and flung the door open. The noise startled Frodo, who dropped the book of Elvish poetry he was translating to Victoria. Both him and his listener turned toward the newcomer.  

Master Frodo, lady witch… come, hurry… a terrible trouble… he panted, leaning on the doorframe.  

Immediately, the two sprang to their feet and followed him in his race through the corridors. They ran through half of Rivendell before they reached their destination. Always following Sam, they made their way through a small crowd of Elves and Men, who blocked the passage and stared at something with their noses in the air, until they got out into a yard.    

Up… up there, Sam gasped when they managed to pass, pointing at something in the sky

Frodo raised his gaze and almost fell on the ground out of shock. About ten meters high in the air there were his young cousins, who hung to a broom that floated in the sky with evident difficulty. Merry hung in the air, holding on to the broomstick with his hands only, and also Pippin, who was still in the saddle, more or less, was having a hard time.   

Frodo turned toward Victoria. She was pale as a ghost and looked petrified with fright. 

He wasn't the only one who watched her. Boromir of Gondor was in the crowd of watchers and he had seen her arrive. He saw how she had stopped dead on her tracks, her eyes going wide, her hands shaking… He saw that look in her eyes. The look she always wore when the tide of memories carried her away, now mixed with a deadly fear.      

In a few seconds, the broom bucked again, Merry lost his grip on one hand with a scared cry, and Victoria finally pulled herself together. She started transfiguring the stones of the pavement under the Hobbits into soft hay, but she wouldn't have had time if another ray of light coming from Gandalf's staff, hadn't wrapped up the strange trio, keeping them in the air until the transformation was over.       

Thanks, by now I can take them. The witch murmured to the Istari, pointing her wand at the two Hobbits and her Stardust. She said some strange words and they were wrapped up in another ray of light. Slowly, Victoria brought them down. In the crowd, Boromir held his breath, his eyes darting from the two Halflings to the girl's concentrated face. At ten centimeters from the ground, the girl lost her grip on them and the Hobbits and broom fell on the hay, unscratched.    

Merry and Pippin looked at each other and then burst out laughing like madmen, but they stopped as soon as they realized that a shadow had fallen upon them. They raised their eyes and saw Victoria towering over them, her fist on her hips and bloodshot, flashing eyes.  

I believe that your cousins will regret that they weren't left in the air, Gandalf murmured to Frodo, who nodded without averting his gaze from furious witch. She looked like a boiler about to explode.  

So? she asked in a menacing voice. What the hell did you think you were doing, eh? 

Well…ehm…we…uh! Merry stumbled, not looking at her.  

We wanted…we wanted to take a turn! said Pippin with his best angel's face, but it was useless. He saw the girl narrowing her eyes and he understood that it wouldn't work, not this time. 

Hearing those words, Victoria shook from head to toe and burst.

ARE YOU TOTALLY DOTARD? YOU LITTLE FOOLS, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU HAVE ON YOUR MIND? AIR? YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BRAINLESS IDIOTS, IF YOU HAVE NOTHING TO DO THEN GO DROWN YOURSELVES NEXT TIME! _BADOLA_! WHO GAVE YOU THE PERMISSION TO TOUCH MY THINGS? EH? _BALENGHI_! YOU'RE COMPLETELY OUT OF MIND! DID YOU KNOW IT OR NOT THAT YOU COULD KICK THE BUCKET, YOU DORKS! NEXT TIME I'LL LEAVE YOU THERE, DULLARDS! YOU CAN'T BE SO STUPID, BY GOD! _IMMENSI PIRLA_! IF YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELVES, THEN HANG YOURSELVES NEXT TIME AND DON'T BOTHER THE OTHERS! _STASI_! CRETINS! MORONS! IDIOTS!…      

Her outburst lasted for more than ten minutes under the eyes of the whole astonished crowd.    

More or less halfway among the heap of insults Victoria screamed at the two Halflings, Aragorn moved as to intervene and make her stop, but Gandalf stopped him laying a hand on his shoulder and whispering to him, If you don't want to be transformed into a lizard or worse, it's better if you stay out of this.   

Aragorn cast a glance to the furious witch's red face and nodded. 

Great Eru! Are the girls of the Men kind all like this? Legolas asked, shocked, behind his shoulders.   

Finally, Victoria ran through all her repertory of insults and curses against the two Hobbits and their ancestors and stopped, panting, concluding with a booming NEXT TIME I'LL BEAT YOU BLACK AND BLUE AND NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT BEFORE I CUT YOU INTO PIECES!!!! 

Merry and Pippin didn't need to be told for a second time and took to their heels, running as if Sauron himself had been chasing them… and truth to be told, they couldn't be really blamed. 

Victoria turned to the Elves and the Men, who were staring at her with their mouths open.

Well? What the hell are you staring at? 

Nothing! replied an Elf from the fourth row, raising his hands and walking away swiftly…and with a good reason, too, for he was the same Elf whose nose had been broken by Victoria just the previous day. 

The crowd dispersed hurriedly. Frodo took a step toward the witch, but Sam blocked him as if he had seen him heading toward the lair of a troll. Gandalf laid a hand on his shoulder and started leading him away. 

It's better if you let her calm down on her own…

But…

Come.

The small Hobbit couldn't do anything else but cast the girl a sad glance. Aragorn and Legolas started walking away, but before they came back under the arcades, the Elf turned again toward the girl. Victoria had picked up her wand – she had thrown it at the Hobbits in the middle of her row – and now she was fussing over the hay.    

Legolas? Aragorn called him. 

Go ahead… the Elf replied with eyes full of pity. …I'll catch up with you later.

The Ranger shook his head. He knew how stubborn the Elves could be, so he just said to him, As you wish. It's your life. He walked away.  

Legolas slowly approached the red-faced girl, who kept on gathering the hay that had been scattered and muttering insults and curses .  

Are you all right? he asked her.

How do you think I… The end of the sentence died in her throat when she raised her eyes and saw him. 

You shouldn't be so irritated, the prince of Mirkwood said. I don't think it's healthy for you.

That's none of your business, she murmured, lowering her gaze and avoiding looking at him. Leave me alone.   

I'm sure they meant no harm, he went remorselessly on. Hobbits are such curious and lively beings… I fear you have been a little harsh on them, even if I can understand that you got angry because they took your things without… He moved as to lay a hand on her shoulder, but she moved away brusquely, taking a few steps away from him. … without…asking. he finished, confused.     

I have my reasons to be mad at them! Victoria replied throwing him a dirty look, but averting her gaze immediately. Stupid idiots! she muttered, kneeling down to replace the hay she had gathered. Legolas handed her some more, but she refused both to take it and to look at him. After he had been waiting for a few moments, he sighed and let it drop on the pile with the rest.

I'm just trying to help you…

If you want to console someone, go find the two brats! she replied furiously, then she lowered her voice. I don't wanna be helped… not by you. Now go away. Leave me alone.  

Legolas sighed resignedly. As you wish. 

He walked away under the arcade, his steps noiseless.  

Victoria was alone. She gathered all the hay and finally she retransformed the pavement. She sighed and wiped away the sweat from her forehead, then her hand slowly descended on her left forearm, clutching it tightly.  

As they had agreed, at sunset Boromir was in the yard where they had practiced that morning. During that second lesson, his pupil surprised him a lot. She fought with something more, an energy she didn't use that morning… She fought with all her might, with her soul. They stopped when darkness started to fall and they stood side by side, watching the last sunrays disappearing behind the mountains.  

I saw you speaking with Legolas… after that quarrel. The prince wanted to console you. 

It seems so, she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 

May I know why you turned down him, an Elvish prince, and yet you allow me to be around you? 

It's different… she murmured, lowering her eyes. …don't get it wrong, but… I like you, Boromir. I'm at ease with you, maybe because we're both simple Humans…I don't get along so well with Aragorn. She smiled at him. At Hogwarts, it was said that even once that you were out, you could instinctively recognize another Wizard or another Witch who came from your own House… Maybe it's not a great compliment, seeing what had been said about us and how we ended up, but….

To me, belonging to the Lost House of Slytherin would have been an honor. The Man cut her off. And then it couldn't be bad if there were people like you, _Merilìs_! He added, ruffling her hair with a move quite fatherly. Victoria smiled at him, then turned toward the horizon. 

I've had a strange relationship with my House… She murmured. I didn't become a Slytherin because the Sorting Hat said so, oh no. I am from my  birth, because of something I have in me… When those rumors about Draco started to spread, I stopped being one. Now that my House doesn't exist anymore,  and also because of what happened on April 30th, I am a Slytherin again. **_The_** Slytherin. She added, almost correcting herself.     

I'm not sure I know what you mean. Boromir said.

It's better this way… Victoria replied. 

By the way… the other noted. We weren't talking about this… am I wrong?  

The witch sighed. No, you aren't. We were talking about prince Legolas. 

Boromir didn't say a word, waiting for her to start. After long minutes, Victoria broke the silence. 

Do you know why I got so mad at Merry and Pippin? She whispered. 

It was because of Draco, wasn't it? Boromir asked.

Victoria nodded slowly, her eyes far away. 

I had begged him to stop playing… But he couldn't, because of his father. I explained it all to you yesterday, no?  

The Man of Minas Tirith nodded without missing a word. 

Well, you see… There's a certain resemblance between Draco and prince Legolas… oh, it's minimum, but… She didn't finish her sentence and Boromir had to do it for her. 

But it hurts you nonetheless.

Victoria nodded silently and he couldn't resist the urge to hold her in his arms and try to ease her sorrow as much as  he could. The girl leaned her head against his shoulder and held him close wordlessly. Two silent tears stained his clothes. Boromir felt funny… he couldn't understand the sensations he was feeling in that moment. He felt a strange warmth in the middle of his chest as he held that child close. After long minutes, she stepped away from him, wiping away her tears.

Are you going to get angry if I tell you a thing?  

I won't, pray tell me. 

Your children are very lucky.

I have no children. I'm not even married…

Victoria blushed. Oh. Sorry, I thought…    

…that with my age and my position, I must be already settled down with at least half a dozen kids. Please, spare me. There's already my father, who doesn't miss a chance to remind me that "as future Steward of Gondor and his heir, it is my duty" and more vexatious comments such as that.

The girl couldn't hide a face. 

Oh my God, he sounds just like Draco's father. 

Well, no… He's not so terrible.

If you say so… Victoria remarked doubtfully. 

A few hours later, while he waited to fall asleep, Boromir suddenly understood what he felt for the young witch. He thought about what he had told her in the court. 

" 'I have no children.' Well, not exactly. Truth to be told, I **_do_** have a daughter."

Because he really thought Victoria so: just like a daughter. A daughter, not a heiress… Like he sometimes he felt he was to his own father or like surely Draco had been to Lucius Malfoy.  

The morning after, Victoria was headed to the court where her practice was waiting for her when suddenly she caught a suspicious movement out of the corner of her eyes. She turned in time to see the edge of a black cloak disappearing behind a corner. Immediately, she came back. Something wasn't right, she felt it…Then it hit her: no one wore black cloaks in Rivendell, nor Men, nor Elves.     

The only ones who wear black cloaks are…

Suddenly, she realized it. She started to run, following the trail of the black-cloaked shadow. She had no time to look for help, she knew where that Black Wraith was headed: to Frodo's rooms. She climbed the stairs running, catching a glimpse of a black shadow three flights above herself, then she saw it disappearing down in a corridor that she recognized with a shudder. She hadn't been wrong. The door of Frodo's room was being closed, but she threw it open. The room was empty. She walked in with caution, her wand clenched in her right hand and her ears pricked up. The door that led to the balcony was open and the white curtains danced to a light breeze. Victoria came near that door and forced herself to look out, even if she didn't dare to go out. That bastard could be hidden there, somewhere… She felt somebody moving behind her and she turned around as she stepped back. In her hurry, she stumbled and fell backwards, landing on her elbow. She got difficultly back to her feet, holding her wounded elbow. It was nothing too serious, but she felt flashes of pain running through her arm. Slowly, the flashes died out. The wind made her suddenly remember where she was. Victoria stood frozen, staring at the railings and at the city below. Her head started spinning, she started to see double, then triple… Terror drowned her, blocking her every move, memories of the past came back filling her mind, not allowing her to think. She was short of air, she couldn't breath… and all those imagines running through her head… she felt the ground waving under her feet, soon she would fall… she dropped on her knees with a cry, burying her face in her hands.       

What's the matter, Boromir? Aragorn asked him, seeing him coming near them with a troubled look upon his face. 

Did you see Victoria? he asked back. 

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a puzzled glance. 

I haven't seen her since two hours ago, when she had breakfast with us. Legolas replied I know not where she could be.

That's strange… said Boromir I've been waiting for her for her lesson, but she's late. I'm worried, she's always so punctual.

Maybe she's with Frodo… Aragorn said They spend a lot of time together, did you ask him if he has seen her?

Aye, I did, but he hasn't.

Right in that moment hurried steps were heard and Frodo and Sam turned a corner.  

Aragorn, Legolas, did you see… Oh, I think that Boromir has already told you everything. Frodo said, noticing the other Man. 

Suddenly, Legolas turned around, frowning. Somebody is screaming… he murmured, trying to hear better that distant sound. It is Victoria's voice! he started to run, following the faint voice, with the others trailing behind him. 

Legolas and Aragorn where the first to reach the balcony, where they found an unexpected scene. Victoria, the proud, terrible, Victoria, was crouched on the floor with her legs against her chest, shaking and moaning out of terror. Usually, she let two locks of hair fall on her face, in front of her eyes, but now her face was completely hidden away by her dark hair. She kept her eyes shut and covered by her arms, as she feared to be blinded by a light too bright… or as she wished for something to go away.    

What's the matter, Victoria? Aragorn asked as he knelt down next to her and grabbed her arm, trying to see her face.  

The girl kept on moaning and yanked her arm free from the Ranger's grasp with unexpected strength, bringing it back in front of her face.

Boromir reached the door. Just a glance was enough to understand what was going on. He pushed Legolas away and lifted her in his arms, carrying her inside the room immediately. The girl tried to struggle, scared, then she clung to him as if she had been afraid to fall. She never opened her eyes. 

Calm down, _dilàr neièn_, calm down, no one will hurt you… It's alright, you're safe now, you are not on the balcony anymore… 

Victoria kept on moaning and sobbing, clinging to him tightly. Boromir kept on holding her and cradling her, caressing her hair and whispering comforting words until she calmed down a little bit. She didn't sob anymore, but she hadn't stopped shaking, nor had she opened her eyes. 

It's better if we carry her to her room…. murmured Aragorn, who had watched the scene developing in front of him without understanding and without speaking.  

Boromir nodded, not averting his gaze from the girl's face. He lifted her up again and  followed Aragorn out of the room. 

Frodo moved away to let them pass. He couldn't avert his gaze from Victoria, he couldn't understand what was happening to her… She looked like she had fallen into pieces. He followed them to Victoria's room like a robot. Boromir had just laid her on her bed when Gandalf arrived and shooed them out. They stayed in the corridor, watching the closed door, unsure of what to do.    

I think… said Aragorn. I think we all need something hot and strong.

A few minutes later, they sat in a little room with a cup of hot tea in their hands. The five members of the Fellowship had been joined by the other three, Merry, Pippin and Gimli. They sat there, silent, lost in their own thoughts until Gimli spoke. 

So, it seems that the sorceress lost her mind… 

Wait until she wakes up and then you'll see how she lost her mind! Boromir replied.  

How do you explain such a behavior? Legolas asked. I've never seen anyone acting like that.

It's just that… The Man of Minas Tirith murmured, lowering his gaze on his cup. 

Just that…? Frodo asked, raising his head.  

Boromir sighed. He thought he was being unfair toward Victoria, but the others had to know…after all, they were the Fellowship of the Ring (or of the Nine plus One, as Merry and Pippin called it).   

Victoria is terrified by heights, great or small alike. 

Tzk! remarked Gimli, gaining himself a dirty look from the warrior of Minas Tirith. 

You would be scared as well if you had seen your best friend falling from four meters high and breaking his neck!  

He swiftly précised all the things Victoria had told him, trying to choke down the guiltiness he felt toward her.  

After a while, Gandalf joined them. 

She's fine, but she has a temperature. I gave her a potion to make her rest.

Can we see her? Frodo asked, springing on his feet. 

Not all together. One of us should stay with her. It's better if she sees a familiar face when she wakes up.

I'll stay with her, Legolas volunteered, but Boromir contradicted him immediately. 

No, **_you _**cannot do it.   

Why not? replied the Elf warily, piercing him with his gaze.  

Have you ever noticed that Victoria avoids looking at you? 

Yes, I know, but what does this…

It has a lot to do with it. According to her, you look like Draco and remind her of him. I don't think it would be healthy for her to see you as soon as she recovers, respectively speaking. 

If it's really so… Aragorn spoke up, laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder to calm him down. …then Boromir's right.

We tread on a dangerous ground… Gandalf murmured. Neither a wizard can say precisely how the mind of a person works. We can't risk to hurt her.

"More than we already have." Boromir added mentally. 

They discussed for a while and in the end Gandalf himself was chosen. 

Victoria was under the potion's effect for almost the whole day. Finally, around dinnertime, Gandalf told the Fellowship that she had awoken, but he didn't allow them to see her, for she needed to rest. 

After dinner, they gathered in a room to discuss what had happened to the girl. 

I told it once and I shall say it again. She's not normal! She shouldn't absolutely come with us. Gimli said for the hundredth time at least.   

Don't be too easy in judging by appearances, master Dwarf. Aragorn scolded him before Boromir could speak up. 

I agree, Gandalf added. We know nothing of the girl's past. We cannot judge her if we don't know what happened to her. 

I don't know much… said Boromir, glaring at Gimli. …but there's something I can tell you: that girl has had a hard life. 

Around her… Legolas murmured. …I can feel a strong aura of sorrow and anger. He shook his head. Only the Valar know what happened to her.  

Judging by the way she spoke of her school, definitely nothing good, Frodo remarked.  

You can say what you want, but I still think that she's totally mad. 

They say that the brain isn't directly proportional to height, but it looks like they're wrong said a new voice from the threshold. Doesn't it, stump?   

Victoria! Fordo cried out, jumping on his feet at the sight of the girl standing in the doorway in a nightgown and barefoot. You should stay in bed…

No way. Not before I clarify a couple of things… She calmly walked across the room and sat down on the table. Her violet eyes watched them one by one, behind the usual locks of hair. Finally, they stopped upon Gimli.   

Do you know what my mama used to tell me, you puny one? "Never judge someone before walking a mile in his shoes." She glanced around the group. Since it's so important for you, I'll lend you my shoes. But I warn you. It won't be a pleasant walk.

Love it? Hated it? Leave a review, so I'll know. 


	8. Chapter VIII: Torey's shoes

Alassea: Not to say that Victoria would *never* seriously lend him – or anybody else, for the matter – her shoes. I guess they wouldn't be too comfortable in high heels… Anyway, after her explanations they will finally trust her. No, this is not a Legomance. It will be a Frodomance after they had destroyed the Ring – that's the main priority, after all.    

Mirkwoodleaf101: I'm glad you think so, thank you!

Elrohir lover: down with Gryffindor!  

Lightning Rain: Thank you very very much! That was exactly my greatest fear…Thanks again! 

Get ready for a lot of explanations….

CHAPTER VIII: TOREY'S SHOES 

I was born in Turin on 29th September 19…But it doesn't matter. My father was the head of the Department for International Security seconded there and my mother was a researcher of the International Center of Defense Against Dark Arts…I know that this doesn't mean anything for you, but translated in simple words it means that they were people who had great responsibilities. She sighed.

They didn't spend much time at home. When I was a child, I got angry with them, but then I understood that their jobs were very important. My mother managed to find time for me nonetheless, but my father…well, he didn't. Practically, I grew up alone. I had no friends until I started to go to school. We were very close when we were little girls, but growing up we lost touch a little… Especially because when I was eleven, I started attending the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in another country. 

A shudder shook her limbs. 

Hogwarts, damned place! I wish I was the water of the lake to submerge it, the ground to swallow it, I wish I was the fire to burn it until there's nothing left but a pile of ashes! 

She growled with hatred.          

I've never fit in at Hogwarts. Never. With all her dumb rules and her stupid top-of-the-form! Even then,  I hated that place, but there was one thing that made it bearable… Draco Malfoy. My best friend. My life at Hogwarts was quite hard, just like it was for every other Slytherin… but for him it was worse. His father was a servant of the Dark Side, a Death Eater…and he wanted that Draco became one as well. Then, on the other hand, our "dear" schoolmates had already decided that he was one of the villains. 

She squirmed nervously on the table.

Okay, maybe Draco wasn't one of the easiest people to get along with… But once you started to know him better, you realized he wasn't that bad. He was just a boy who had had a horrible life and did his best to survive. His father never wanted a son…he wanted an heir, a copy of himself. Draco tried to make him proud of him, especially when he was younger… but he never succeeded. There was always something wrong, and I would be very surprised if there hadn't been anything. Because, you see, they might be identical in their faces, but no matter what the others said, Draco wasn't his father….Thank God. Growing up, Draco realized that it wasn't worth the effort, but he was trapped. If he had refused to become a Death Eater, his father would have killed him. Our "dear" schoolmates would have never believed a Malfoy. If he had become a Death Eater, first, he wouldn't have had the courage to look at me in the face or to look at his own face in a mirror; second, sooner or later he would have been killed anyway. Wherever he turned, he was trapped. Since he was the most stubborn person I've ever met, he wanted to find a way out by himself, without involving me.

She took a deep breath. 

I would have done anything for him, **_but_** staying out of his life and letting him find a way out on his own…unfortunately, this was exactly what he asked me. I told him that I would never do it and he gave up. I've never left him alone, but…even so, I couldn't prevent it from happening. There were some guys who thought that Draco was hoodoo, one who brings bad luck, and when I was a Fourth-Year, those rumors spread in the whole school.

Her eyes flashed alarmingly. 

I've never found out who spread that rumor. Everyone avoided Draco, they treated him as a leper. When they played Quidditch no one wanted to fly near him…Boromir, you told them how Draco died, didn't you?       

Her eyes fell on the Man of Minas Tirith, who nodded slightly, and then turned back to the floor. 

I was there, you know. I was there, on the stand, and I saw everything… I saw the Bludger approaching, I saw Draco falling on the ground, I saw professor Sinistra closing his eyes. I put away his clothes, I didn't bear the thought of some stranger fumbling in his things. I went to the funeral with Marcus, Adrian and professor Snape. I… I stared at the Malfoys for the whole ceremony. They were… bored. Dead or alive, they didn't give a damn about him. Mrs. Malfoy started to fan herself with the prayer book and I sat there watching them, and I was thinking "Now I go there and I'll break a candelabra on their heads. Now I go there and I'll fan them with a bench."  

She took a deep breath. 

I remember… I remember the silence that fell in the church when the priest asked if there was somebody who wanted to tell something in Draco's memory. I remember that I rose and walked to the lectern, but… When I found myself there, facing that crowd of strangers, I understood that… that whatever I had said, it wouldn't change their thoughts of him. If words existed enough to explain what was Draco, who Draco really was, I didn't know them. So… I just said that I would miss him.  

She raised her face to look at them. 

What else could I have said? 

Nervously, Aragorn spoke up. You were in love with him, weren't you? 

I must congratulate you. It took me years to realize it… but speaking of  those days… She hesitated for a moment, almost gathering all her thoughts. You don't know how much people can be hypocritical. At the end of the school year, I remember the sad faces, the black ribbons, the speech of the Headmaster in memory of another lost student… All lies! They were too coward to admit that they were happy that Draco was dead! 

Her breathing became heavy, a flame of hatred and rage lit up her eyes. 

Damned bastards! In that moment, I swear I felt ready to kill them all. But obviously I couldn't, so… I ran away. I couldn't bear to stay in that room for a minute more.  

She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was little more than a whisper. 

Draco's death was only the beginning of the end. After that, I received a letter from Adrian, who was older than us and by now was out of Hogwarts. He wrote me that he had become a Death Eater and that was the last time I heard from him. He was found dead last March… I still wonder if he was killed by his companions, by the Ministry or by Dumbledore's partisans. During the summer between my Fifth and my Sixth year, my mother and I fell apart. My father had had to leave long before to go fighting the Dark Lord. In September, I came back to school. My schoolmates, who had ignored me during the previous years, finally noticed me… Especially because I didn't let them forget what had happened to Draco.

Legolas was about to speak, but Victoria didn't let him. Oh, I know what you're going to say, that it had been an accident… but I don't think so. I don't know if what happened to Draco can be called homicide or suicide… or rather both.  But there's something I know: it wouldn't have happened if they had let him be… or if I had managed to stop him. And don't tell me I couldn't do anything! One can **_always _**do something.

She sighed and shook her head.   

About Hogwarts… I wasn't welcomed there. I bothered them. I reminded them what I had done, I accused them… And they don't like to be reminded of the evil deeds that they have done. We are the bad ones, they are the good ones, the untouchables, the **_saints_**…I hope they'll burn in Hell!

She shivered.

That year, at Hogwarts… something happened. Something that changed my life and worsened my fear of heights…    

Victoria Cross walked alone in one of her school's corridors, holding her books to her chest. It was a cold January afternoon. An icy wind coming from the mountains had been howling restlessly around the ancient castle for days. 

Suddenly, two older boys appeared behind a corner. Before Victoria had time to turn around, they threw a blanket on her head and immobilized her, carrying her away in spite of her struggling and kicking. They had to Body-Bind her totally to carry her to the Northern Tower.

While one of them held her, the other opened a door that lead on a big stone balcony. They threw her out in the cold, like a sack of rags, and annulled the spell as they closed the door.

Victoria laid unmoving in the snow for some seconds, then she rose slowly. At first she was confused, but it didn't take her a long time to figure out where she was. Shaking with cold, her feet soaked with snow, she came back to the door and  tried to open it. The door didn't move. It had been blocked from the inside. She kind of expected it. She looked around and a vague fear started creeping inside of her, she couldn't see anything else but the towers, the roof and the  park covered in snow. At that sight, she was attacked by the irrational fear that the earth could slide from under her feet, but she managed to drive it back…more or less. She started pacing back and forth, trying to keep up her circulation of blood, always avoiding carefully the edge of the balcony.

She stayed there for more than an hour before she gave up. If she didn't do something soon, she would have frozen to death. She could count only on herself, as always. She slowly came near the crenellated parapet and looked downward. The ground covered in snow looked farther away than the moon herself. She knew that she couldn't reach the ground unharmed…but she also knew that there was a window twenty meters under the balcony. And that it was her only chance. She let out a sigh and watched the puff of her own breath as she bit down her lower lip. 

I can do this.

She climbed on the parapet, turned around and began climbing down slowly, placing her numb feet on the protruding stones, slipping her icy hands in the clefts between the disjointed blocks. The wind blew everywhere around her, working its way under her uniform, though heavy it wasn't enough for the iciness, chilling her to the bone. Little by little, step by step, Victoria kept on climbing down. Suddenly she stopped to find a secure hook, flatting herself against that cold wall, seeking safety from the wind that felt like it wanted to tear her away from there.

She looked down and clung tighter to the wall with her cold hands.

Oh my goodness…

For a moment she contemplated the possibility of going back up, but she dismissed it immediately. When a Slytherin starts something, he never stops until he arrives to the end. She went on. 

The disaster happened about five meters lower. As she moved her foot to another hook, the stone angle she was leaning on crumbled under her. Her hands, with the blood frozen in her veins, couldn't keep their hold and slipped on the cold and wet stones. She whispered a word as she fell backwards.

Draco…

But that name was immediately drowned by the icy wind. 

She started falling. The air passed over her like a  swollen river. Apart from the whistle of the wind, the only sound she heard was the loud beating of her heart. She saw the gray sky above her and the dark form of the Northern Tower sliding away without any hook. She felt like she had been falling for years, for ages. 

She kept on thinking "Here, now I reach the ground…now comes the pain…" But one nor the other ever came.         

…And when you start fearing you're falling toward the very center of the Earth and maybe you'll never reach the bottom, but you'll keep on falling down 'till Doom's Day and beyond… right when you start thinking that you'll never touch the ground…then it happens… 

Her fall ended on the ground covered in soft snow. The sky and the tower became red as blood and then a black veil covered her eyes. She lay on the ground in her school uniform, her dark hair around her head like a halo, contrasting deeply with the whiteness of the snow and of her skin.  

I remember a terrible pain in my back and in my head…and then nothing. She ended, bringing a hand to the back of her head.  

No one could talk. Frodo felt like crying and hugging the young witch and protecting her. The same question ran through his and his eight companion s' mind: how could they have done such a thing? He stared at Victoria's white hands that clenched painfully the edge of the table, as if she was afraid that it could disappear suddenly and she would fall again. 

How… Gandalf asked, his voice low and unbelieving How could you survive such a fall?

And you ask it? Victoria replied in a blank voice, finally raising her eyes from the floor. I'm not a witch for nothing. I must have used my magic unconsciously…and then there was the snow, it should have softened my fall somehow. And then I was on the Northern Tower.

The Northern Tower? Merry asked, confused. 

They say that when it had been built for the first time, Hogwarts' castle had only four towers, one for every founder…like the Houses. For every House, a Tower to seek refuge in case of extreme danger. Nothing can harm you inside the Tower of your House, they're protected by a magic too strong and too ancient. A flame of pride lit up in her eyes. The Northern Tower is Salazar Slytherin's tower and I am the Slytherin.

The Slytherin? Legolas asked, not failing to notice the strange way she had pronounced that sentence.

You know what happened on April 30th. I thought you understood… She murmured. I am the last one. There won't be any other Slytherins in Hogwarts. She shrugged her shoulders. And maybe it's better this way.  

Nobody knew what to say to her. For long minutes, the only sound that filled the room was the cracking of the fire in the fireplace. 

Victoria stared at the floor, but Frodo knew that she didn't really see it. She was far away again, locked in her own thoughts. 

Suddenly, she spoke again in a low voice. 

I told you about April 30th…Now I'll talk about August 31st.

She took a deep breath, as to gather up courage. Boromir, who sat on a chair near her, leaned over and laid a hand on her arm. Victoria squeezed his hand and raised her face to meet his eyes in a silent thank, just to let her gaze drop back on the floor.  

I know that to you my fear of heights is a weakness… and yet there was a day when my fear saved my own life. In my family, we usually spent my last day of holiday all together, and even if my father was God-only-knows-where, my mother wanted to live up the tradition. She ran her hands through her hair. Things hadn't been working between us since the previous year, mainly because of me. We had fallen apart. So I went out with an excuse and I hung around for the whole afternoon. She turned toward a window to look at the sky. When I came back home, the sun was setting…      

_Hi, mum. I'm home. _

_The only sound was the closing door. _

_Mamma?Victoria looked around, puzzled, and went to check the phone. There wasn't any post-it. _

_Mamma? she called, walking into the kitchen, then in the bathroom.Mamma!_

_She checked her study and then headed to the sitting-room. On the threshold, she stopped dead in her tracks. _

_MAMMA! She shouted, spotting a unmoved figure laying on the floor._

_She threw herself by her mother's side and turned her on her back. Her dark hair, similar to her daughter's one, was messy and some locks fell in front of her hazel eyes, wide open on nowhere._

_Mamma… Victoria moaned, holding the body close and letting a few salty tears fall on her mother's breast. _

_Suddenly, she raised her head. She had heard a noise… like there was somebody else. She got on her feet slowly and started walking backwards, clutching her wand in her right hand – she never parted with it, it was a habit she had picked up after the aggressions at school, especially after the "joke" in January._

_Her violet eyes searched the room frantically, she reached the threshold and turned around suddenly. She took but two fast steps. A ray of gray light hit her between her shoulder blades and Victoria dropped on the ground, unmoved._

_She heard the soft rustle of an Invisibility Cloak falling on the ground and footsteps getting nearer. Somebody turned her on her back with a foot, as with a filthy thing one doesn't want to touch, fearing to get dirty. She couldn't move a single muscle, but her eyes were enough to express her burning anger. The black-cloaked man grinned under his mask and aimed his wand at her, hissing one simple word. _

_Imperio._

_If the girl had been able to move, she would have tried to struggle, she would have taken her head in her hands, as to shield it from that persuasive, dangerous voice… but she couldn't. _

_The Death Eater watched the reflection of that internal battle in her eyes and finally he saw them getting slightly cloudy. He undid the spell he had blocked her with and her body relaxed against the marble floor, as she had been lying on a lawn in a spring morning. Obeying to the voice in her head, Victoria sat up and raised her eyes to the Death Eater, looking at him with a calm and relaxed – if not vaguely stupid – face. The man smiled cruelly._

_Good girl…_

Victoria got to her feet and started walking, following that voice inside her head that told her that it was all over now, that there was nothing left worth fighting for. Draco was dead, Adrian was dead, Mark was dead, Elisa, Lara, Betta and Very were far away and they didn't give a damn about her, the Slytherins were dead, mamma was dead… her father was surely dead as well. 

A part of her protested weakly that she couldn't know for sure, but the voice replied that even if he had been alive, he wouldn't have come back home, because her father didn't really love her, he didn't care for her. He had never been there for her. He didn't care about Victoria. And if she hadn't done it, she would have had to come back to Hogwarts and would have never come back home, in Torino… She should have stayed at Hogwarts forever. That was the only way to stop everything, not to be hurt anymore. 

And following that voice, Victoria climbed the stairs, step by step, until she reached the roof. She passed through a skylight and kept on walking on the tiles. She stopped on the edge of the roof. The wind blew her dark hair, her violet eyes looked far away, at the mountains that stood out against the blue sky, and inside her head that voice kept on talking. 

She had almost done it, soon all  would have been over. No one would ever bother her, no one would ever hurt her. The Gryffindors and the other would never catch her, they would never hurt her again. She was going to see Draco again, and Adrian and mamma and everyone else. She'd never be alone again. She'd be at peace… She just had to take a step forward. Just one and she'd reach Draco. 

Behind her back, the Death Eater watched her with a cruel grin upon his lips, foretasting what was going to happen next. 

Victoria was about to take that last step when suddenly, forced by an instinct stronger that the Imperius Curse, she looked down. Her sight clouded, her head started spinning… She was seized with vertigo and her heart started pounding in her chest. She stepped back with a cry, frightened. 

What the hell… the Death Eater cursed, coming near her and seizing her by a shoulder. Go!

Victoria cried loudly and  shook her head. No, no, no… She was too scared, too scared. The man tried to push her over the edge, but she kept on struggling, fighting and kicking desperately. During the fight, she fell on the roof and she clung to the tiles with a moan, waiting for the man to attack again…but nothing happened. The girl stayed still for long minutes, then, slowly, she raised her head, still trembling. No one. She was alone and her mind was clear, she didn't felt like her brain was drowned in almond-milk anymore. 

Shaking, she managed to crawl to the edge of the roof and forced herself to look down. In front of her mother's vases of geraniums and petunias there was a kind of bundle wrapped up in a black cloak. Victoria backed away, her breath ragged. She stayed still, maybe waiting to wake up from a bad dream, and then rubbed her eyes with a hand. How many times, how many times she had wished that everything that was happening to her was just a dream, a nightmare destined to fade… But everything was real. That was her life. 

She rose on her trembling legs and came back inside through the same skylight she had went out from. She stumbled to the telephone in her parents' bedroom and dialed the Security Department emergency number. She was answered by a voice blank and indifferent, typical of who treats cases like that one a hundred times a day and often has to deal  with hysterical people. 

Victoria managed to explain what had happened and after hanging up the phone, she went out in the garden, holding tightly in her hand the wand she had picked up form the parlor's floor. She stopped a meter away from the black bundle she had seen from the roof. She hadn't been wrong. She stared at the Death Eater's corpse with a blank face, then she came back, turned around the corner of the house and sat down on the doorsteps, waiting. Summer was over. The sun was setting at the horizon. 

She was still there when the Ministry's employer arrived. The garden was full of cars, of unknown men who came and went, plotted the ground, placed nylon-threads and transenna and kept the crowd in check. Somebody put a jacket around her shoulders. The blinkers and lights made that scene look unreal. Victoria didn't move away from those doorsteps. She sat there and watched all that bustling like a spectator at the movies watches a film she doesn't like much, watching everything that happens without feeling involved but she doesn't go away because she has already bought the ticket, so she stays even if she wants to leave.       

…I went to Hogwarts, but I didn't stay long. Little more than a month later, on October 3rd, I received a letter from Torino. They had found a man who resembled Jeremy Cross, gone missing in July. They needed somebody to formally identify the body, so, on October 4th, I came back in Italy. Had the first identification been wrong, I would have come back to school the following the day…But it didn't went exactly like that. 

Was he your father? Aragorn asked.

Victoria looked at him in the eyes and nodded. Yeah. He was my father. At least what was left of him. He had died three or four months before and he wasn't exactly a pleasant sight.

Did somebody come with when you went to… Frodo trailed off and Victoria shook her head. 

No. I was alone, as always. I had no one to come with me. A brief silence followed those words. I stayed in Turin for eleven days… 'cause of the funeral and to arrange the other things. Then I used the Floo Powder – it's a special magic powder, it allow us to travel through the chimneys – as I was saying, I used the Floo Powder to come back to Hogwarts and I ended up here. You know what happened then. Victoria took a deep breath. Now that you know my story, I wish you'd answer a little question… She raised her gaze toward them, watching them. Am I crazy?       

What caught them off guard, apart from the question itself, was the tone she asked it with. She wasn't being polemic as usual and as they expected… In that moment, she sounded like a lost girl who didn't know where to turn. 

Frodo sprang to his feet. You aren't crazy.

Victoria turned to him and their eyes met. Still keeping his gaze on her eyes, Frodo came near and climbed on the table by her side.

You aren't crazy, He repeated tenderly, caressing her face with a hand. 

The young witch let out a strangled moan and leaned against him, hiding her face against his shoulder. 

The Hobbit held her close, caressing her hair and breathing her perfume. He felt his heart beating faster and he hoped that that moment would never end… Suddenly, he remembered that they weren't alone in the room and he felt himself blushing. 

Maybe Victoria felt his sudden embarrassment, because she broke their embrace, wiping away uncried tears. 

It's better if you don't stay too close to me, Frodo, she murmured, pushing him away gently. 

He was just being kind, Sam remarked, annoyed by the witch's lack of manners. 

I know. Victoria said quietly But it's better if everyone stays on his own, especially out of my way. 

Madam is too arrogant to consort with us? Gimli asked disputatiously.       

All the people I care for have developed the sorry tendency to disappear! she said back Sorry if I don't want to have you on my conscience. Suddenly, her features darkened. Maybe the hoodoo wasn't Draco…Maybe it was me. 

Don't think so! Boromir cried out. 

Lady Victoria, no one can govern fate. Luck and bad luck don't fix on a man only… Gandalf explained, trying to reassure her. 

Yeah…probably it's true, the girl murmured I'm sorry. She jumped down from the table. I hope you're satisfied, now. 

She started walking to the door when Aragorn's voice stopped her. 

Victoria…are you sure you want to come? Don't you think you've had enough? 

The girl turned around to look at him. The others hadn't said a word, but he was clear that they agreed with him. She looked at them, one by one. 

Let me tell you one thing…We Slytherins aren't like the "heroic" Gryffindors, who rush headfirst into every undertaking. We stay in the rear, they say to see who's winning and maybe for some of us it's true…But when the Slytherins come into battle, God help their enemy. During the Crusades, it had been the Knights of the Snake to lead the decisive attack in the battle of Cordova. If it hadn't been for them, the Gryffindors would have been defeated. We were in Mons in 1914, in the Ardennes in 1944, down in the Falklands in 1898, Byelorussia in 1730, Chorea in 1950, Japan in 1979, Lancaster shire and Yorkshire in 1285, Scotland in 1359 and Wales in 1467… we defended Hogwarts the **_only_** time it had been directly menaced, in 1666! We shed our blood for what we believed in… and surely we won't stop now.

But you're the last one, Vicky. Legolas whispered. 

As an answer, Victoria started signing a strange refrain with a ragged rhythm, closer to normal speech than to a song. 

_ I'm a soldier_

_These shoulders hold up so much_

_They won't budge, I'll never fall or fold up_

_I'm a soldier_

_Even if my collarbone crush or crumble_

_I will never slip or stumble _

_I'm a soldier   _

_These shoulders hold up so much_

_They won't budge, I'll never fall or fold up_

_I'm a soldier_

_Even if my collarbone crush or crumble_

_I will never stumble_1

Is it enough for you? she asked in a tired and firm voice at the same time. 

She turned and went away, walking down the dark passage without looking back, her head proudly high…like a soldier.

"The last Slytherin soldier." Boromir thought. 

1: The lyrics of the song "Soldier" belong to Eminem. 

Loved it? Hated it? Leave a review…


	9. Chapter IX: Last Days and Departure

Alassea: That's what I feared…I hope I can redeem myself with this chapter. 

Elrohir lover: That's only the truth girl! Down with haughty-and-mighty Gryffindor! Anyway, no need to apologize for your English: as I said, it's not my mother-language as well and if it wasn't for Daughter of Olorin – I'll never thank her enough – this story could be worse… 

And now, the show must go on…

CHAPTER  IX: LAST DAYS AND DEPARTURE 

Author's note:

Mole Antonelliana: symbol of the city of Turin (Italy), it's a building that resembles a tower. Have you ever seen the logo for Turin Winter Games 2006? Well, that's the Mole. More or less. No connections with furry animals, spots on human skin or breakwaters. 

Frodo's eyes rose from his breakfast. His sharp Hobbit ears had detected Victoria's approaching footsteps. It was impossible not to recognize them, thanks to the strange shoes she wore. As soon as she appeared in the doorway, he realized that something was wrong. Differently from the others, he was learning how to interpret the signals Victoria gave away with her movements or with the expression of her eyes. 

"Maybe it's because I watch her more often and more closely than the others…" 

He had no sooner formulated that thought than a malicious voice inside his head implied that he **_liked_** watching Victoria, maybe not only watch her. 

The Hobbit drove away that voice, trying to believe it had been the Ring and not a port of his own subconscious. The sounds of angry voices shook him awake from his reverie. It looked like the storm had just broken out…

Victoria barely held back an annoyed face when she saw that the "baleful dwarf" had taken her place at the Fellowship's table. She slowly walked to their table and stopped next to her usual seat, folding her arms and staring insistently at Gimli. 

After long minutes – minutes that the other members of the Fellowship spent doing their best to pretend that they were not watching those two – the Dwarf raised his head to look at her face. 

_Gaute_ Victoria said very calmly, even if her eyes flashed.

Excuse me? Gimli asked, not understanding that strange word. 

_Gaute_, go away, move over, get-out-from-under-foot. Do I have to write it or to call an interpreter? 

That was a voluntary provocation, because Victoria knew perfectly well that the only language that everybody understood was that kind of English mixed with some words from the Ancient Runes, and that surely that "Common Tongue" didn't sound the slightest bit like the dialect spoken in her city, under the shadow of the Mole Antonelliana.     

I didn't saw your name written upon this chair. Gimli growled back. 

Well, if you insist… Victoria slid a hand in her pocket to grab her wand and whispered a spell as she shove him off the chair, letting him fall gracelessly on the ground. Then she knelt down next to the chair, took her jack-knife out form her pocket, pulled out the blade and started carving some strange signs on the wooden seat, under her fellows' astonished gaze. She dusted the seat and swept Gimli's plate, knife, fork, spoon and glass away with her arm before she  sat down and started her breakfast. 

Aren't you hungry today? she asked when she saw that no one, the Hobbits included, was eating. 

Boromir smiled amusedly and shook his head. That girl was impossible. 

As soon as Victoria left, they all immediately checked if she had **_really_** had the nerve to carve her name on an Elvish chair. If they had known her a little bit better, they wouldn't need to check. On the seat there was carved the name "Torey" in capital letters. 

Frodo ran his hands through his dark curls and burst out laughing, while not even Aragorn could hold back a smile. 

The rest of the day passed more or less like the others had, scanned by the preparations for the imminent departure. Yet, Victoria looked strangely far away. Boromir, that watched closely as usual, noticed it but he had to wait until sunset to talk to her alone. 

He found her sat near a fountain in the garden, humming one of her strange songs. 

Are you all right, _Merilìs_? he asked as he sat down by her side. Today you're a little bit…absentminded. 

Victoria shrugged her shoulders and Boromir sighed. 

It's…it's because of what happened last night, isn't it? 

Well… the girl murmured … I can't say I slept well after remembering all those things…and yeah, it's connected with my memories in a certain way. 

I'm sorry.

It's not your fault.

He hesitatingly put an arm around her shoulder but the girl, instead of stiffening, leaned against him. 

They stayed silent for a long time, then Victoria spoke again. 

You know…I was thinking about my father. She let out a sigh. He was a good man and he did his job well…But sometimes I wonder if he ever remembered that he had a daughter.

I'm sure he did, Boromir answered, caressing her hair. No one could forget a daughter like you. 

When I was a child, my father was my hero… I think all the children pass through this phase. Even if, personally, I'm not sure I ever got over it. Another sigh. You know, my father had always been… not absent, no. Distant, that's the word. He was right in front of me but at the same time I couldn't reach him, do you know what I mean? 

She turned to look at him.

Perfectly.

Victoria bit down on her nail. 

Maybe that's why I connected more with Draco, Mark and Adrian than with the girls down in Turin…Or why I felt so bad when Adrian wrote me that letter… She trailed off.

Maybe you're right, _Merilìs_… Or maybe you were closer to them than to the other maidens because they were your Housemates and the lived by your side, sharing your same experiences that other people couldn't understand. 

Yet you understand me…I know it. I feel it. 

Boromir half-smiled. I try. It's almost incredible, don't you think so? You world is so distant from mine, and yet in certain ways they are so close.  He turned his gaze toward the dying sun. Sorrow and Evil are not so different. They are common experiences to every world, I think. Just what is outside the world's limits is deprived of them. 

What is outside the world's limits…Do you mean a kind of Hereafter? 

I do. Elves don't die when their time comes, they travel over the sea…I think there's a kind of Refuge for us Men as well, somewhere. 

Victoria frowned and Boromir cast her a worried glance. The girl shook her head.

That's nothing. It's just that… well, I guess I'm more far away from home than what I thought. She closed her eyes and, thinking about what Boromir had just told her, she whispered a phrase that had stuck inside her mind like a flash of light. "Verily I say unto thee, Today thou shalt be with me in Heaven"… She reopened her eyes and she saw the warrior of Minas Tirith looking at her confusedly. That's a quote from the Gospel, the holy book of my religion.

I see… 

Victoria's eyes stopped on the mountains that surrounded Rivendell. 

Boromir… if something happened to me, if I died in this quest…or even if I survived and I had to stay here for the rest of my days…well…do you think I'll go there as well? 

In the…heaven you were talking about? 

I don't know what its exact name is… she shrugged her shoulders The Bible calls it so, but the Bible – even if it's the Book of God – had been written by men. Whatever its name is, there must be a place, even undefined, where there are my father and my mother and Draco, Mark, Adrian, Cathy, Isobel, Shaun, Caroline, Kevin, Blaise, all my schoolmates from Slytherin… But will I go there as well? Will I be able to reach it?      

Boromir hesitated in front of those eyes that stared at him full of hope. He badly wanted to tell her she would, but he couldn't, he didn't know much about those kind of things…If only Faramir had been there, surely he would have known how to answer her question. A lie, even if it was told with good deeds, would have been useless, so his answer could be nothing but the truth.

I cannot tell you, _rei neién_. I can just hope that it shall happen.

It's my fault, I shouldn't have asked a question no one can answer… Victoria murmured, hugging herself. 

I cannot tell you anything, _Merilìs_…But maybe somebody else can.

Who?

Gandalf, for example. Or Legolas. In the end, he's an Elf. His kin was favored y the Valar and he spent more time on this Earth than you can imagine.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. Yeah, maybe I'll ask it to Legolas…                

By the tone she said it, Boromir understood that with "maybe" she meant "never," so he added, I'm sure he would be glad to talk with you about this problem. 

Another shrugging of shoulders came from her. She looked so sad, so lost, that the Man couldn't help but caress her hair, like he used to do with his little brother when they were children. 

Do not, despair, _Merilìs_. Remember, you are not alone.

Victoria smiled at him. Beside sword-wielding, you should teach me Gondor local speech! You keep on calling me with words that I don't understand and it kinda gets on my nerves.

I have no problem with this.

Good. So, would you mind telling me what "_Merilìs_" means? I noticed that you use it very often… 

Boromir let out a small sigh. It means "morning star" and it comes from the union of "_Mérin_," morning, and "_lìs_," star.**1**     

And why did you chose to call me so?

The morning star is the last one that leaves the sky. And you are the last one of he Lost House of Slytherin. 

Not to say that I don't die so easily. 

I hope so. She turned to look at him and he took her hands. I want you to be safe.

Victoria smiled wordlessly. The dinner-call rang. 

Come on, said the warrior, rising. They're waiting for us.

What a bore, it's so comfortable here… 

Come on, you lazy girl! Boromir replied, smiling. Suddenly he bent down and, after grabbing her, he launched her over his shoulder. 

Hey, let me go! she shrieked, struggling. Do you think I'm a sack? Put me down! I can walk on my own!

Now, don't whimper 

Victoria tried uselessly to free herself from his iron grip. Then she tried to punch him on his back, obtaining more or less the same results. Truth to be told, she wasn't really putting up a fight. Her blows would have left no mark and she was about to burst out laughing, even she tried to hide it. Along the corridors, they passed near Legolas. Seeing the Elf's puzzled and scandalized face, the young witch couldn't hold back anymore and let out a resonant, vibrant laughter. Afraid he would hurt her, Boromir put her down with some difficulties caused by her laughter. Still laughing, they entered the great hall side by side and sat down at the Fellowship's table. Victoria started helping herself with some Elvish food and then moved as to pass the dish to Boromir, who stopped her.

Don't you think you eat too little food? 

When we're on the road, you'll be glad that I don't eat much, she replied, turning to stare insistently at Merry and Pippin, who lowered their gaze. Every time they saw Victoria, they felt bad for the prank they had pulled on her. It had been Merry's idea to disguise themselves as Black Knights and lock her on the balcony to make her pay for the bad figure they had cut when she had scolded them in front of half Rivendell. They didn't think she would have reacted that way. As if it hadn't been enough, then, Frodo hadn't forgiven them yet and he constantly bugged them to make them apologize. 

Now, now, said the warrior of Minas Tirith filling Victoria's plate. This is probably the last decent meal you'll have in a while…

The fact that this is a "decent meal" is definitely an opinion… Victoria replied as she made a face and started salting her food.

Why, what's the matter with Elvish food? Legolas asked.

Do you want the truth? It's totally tasteless

The Elf opened his eyes wide. Tasteless?! 

It's like being in the Hospital Wing! How can you compare it with spaghetti or lasagne or _bagna cauda_**2**?        

Lasagne? Sam couldn't help, and soon the Hobbit and the witch were engrossed in a culinary discussion. 

Frodo listened to their exchange of advices, opinions and recipes without averting his gaze from Victoria. He didn't even realize he had finished the food in his plate, so concentrated he was on the girl's face, her smiling eyes behind the two usual locks of dark hair, her red cheeks… Suddenly, he pulled himself together.

"What I am thinking about! We're about to leave for an important mission and I indulge in these thoughts? Congratulations, I'm really a responsible Ring Bearer!" 

Gandalf couldn't hold back a fatherly smile. He knew perfectly well what was happening in the young Hobbit's mind and heart. 

The last day passed almost too quickly. That evening, after dinner, Lord Elrond summoned the whole Fellowship in one of the halls of Rivendell. When Victoria arrived, she discovered disappointedly that all the seats had  already been taken. She narrowed her eyes and watched the others behind her locks of hair. She was ready to bet that they had done it purposely. She approached them calmly and then she sat down in Boromir's lap freely and easily, astonishing everybody, first of all the warrior of Minas Tirith. Boromir started staring insistently at her, trying to keep a straight and stern face. Feeling his gaze, Victoria turned to look at him and raised her eyebrows, as she had been asking "Is-there-something-wrong-?"

Comfortable? the Man asked her, folding his arms. 

Yeah, please, the girl replied, turning again and leaning herself against him. 

Those words and that scene made them all burst out laughing, Dwarf and Elf included. 

You are terrible, _Merilìs_, Boromir remarked as soon as he recovered from his fits of laughter. 

Victoria smiled evilly. I know! 

She moved as to stand up, but Boromir put an arm around her waist, stopping her.

You aren't going to sit on the floor, are you? she nodded and he added. Stay, you don't bother me.

Are you sure? If I hurt your legs, tell me and I move away… 

Don't you worry, you are light as a feather. 

Elrond and Gandalf's arrival cut off the conversation and Victoria re-adjusted herself, leaning against Boromir. 

Frodo's laughter hadn't join the others'. He had felt that strange fire eating him up from inside again, like the previous evening when he had seen them together. He didn't trust Boromir, he really couldn't manage it. On the other hand, Victoria did trust him, maybe too much… The warrior of Minas Tirith was much larger than him, and yet Frodo had swore to himself that if Boromir had ever tried to hurt Victoria, he would have had to pass over the blade of his fateful sword Sting first. A movement above their heads, near the ceiling, had caught Frodo's attention. He had seen Duke, Victoria's hawk, roosted on a beam, staring at the men who surrounded his mistress quite unfriendly. Frodo had turned his gaze back to the young witch and he had seen her whispering with Boromir. He had cast a brief glance to the hawk and his eyes had returned to the girl. 

"He cares for you as well, Victoria. He wants to protect you too."   

Gandalf and Elrond had arrived and Frodo's reverie and all the whispering had been interrupted. 

The two wise men explained which direction they were going to take: first on the West side of the Misty Mountains, then through the Gap of Rohan and finally they would turn Eastwards, toward Mordor. 

All those names didn't mean a thing to Victoria, who started toying absentmindedly with the button on the left cuff of her blouse. Unfortunately, the thread that held the button had been consumed by washings and chose right that moment to break. Victoria found herself with the button in her hand and the arm half-uncovered. 

…Any questions? Lord Elrond asked in the end.         

Victoria raised her left hand, uncaring of the unbuttoned sleeve. 

Speak, Lady Victoria, the lord of Rivendell sighed, as if he had known **_what_** that saucy girl had in mind. 

Can I go to the toilette? she asked as if she was at school. 

The men of the Fellowship of the Nine (plus One) tried to hide or to choke down their laughter as Elrond nodded, looking quite annoyed. 

Go,  he told her, and from his voice it was clear that he would have gladly told her to go to Hell. 

Thanks, Victoria stood up and walked toward the door. As she walked by, she met Frodo's gaze and winked at him.       

After a few minutes, she came back. Elrond had already left and the others were quietly chatting. 

You have been quite fast to go to the privy and come back. Legolas noticed with a strange smile, folding his arms. 

Who said I went to the privy? she replied, sitting down on an empty chair and lighting a cigarette. It was just to annoy Lord Elrond,  she explained, smiling back at Legolas. 

Excuse me, Vicky, but…What's that thing on your arm? Frodo asked, getting to his feet and coming near her. 

Where? Victoria asked, then she understood Oh, this!

Victoria rolled up her left sleeve. From elbow to wrist, her arm was covered with the drawing of a strange animal, which was hard understand what it was. 

What's this?

Don't you see it? It's a dragon! Pippin said, peering over Frodo's shoulder to have a better look. 

It looks more like a snake to me, Merry remarked. 

You're both right, Victoria explained, shifting her arm so they could have a better view. It's a Chinese Dragon-snake. It cost me a lot of money, but the result was more than satisfying…

It cost you? Legolas repeated, not understanding what she meant. Signs of this sort usually are carried from birth…But I must admit that I have never seen such a drawing before, he added, studying it. The dragon began at her elbow and wrapped around Victoria's forearm to the wrist, not leaving a single millimeter of skin uncovered.

This is a tattoo…A kind of…well, let's call it "embroidery." In the end, it's the same principle.           

You mean that…that you had your own arm embroidered?! Boromir cried out, shocked. 

Well, you see…I just wanted to take a small precaution.

Against what? Aragorn inquired. 

Victoria grazed her tattoo with her fingertips. You see…In my world, the Death Eaters are branded with the Dark Mark, a kind of hidden tattoo that disappeared, so no one noticed it. V…the Dark Lord of my world chose a skull with a snake that came out of its mouth. She lowered her gaze. That's why I have this. Because I felt like doing it…And because so I'll never be able to receive the Dark Mark, even if I fell under the Imperius Course. This tattoo has been made in the Muggle way, "embroidering" the skin. They can't place another one upon it, not even by magic.

Wasn't there any other way? Boromir asked. I mean, getting that…thing must have been painful, judging how it was made and the space that covers… 

Well…truth to be told, it hurt like Hell, but it was worth it. 

You chose a strange subject… Frodo murmured, softly grazing her tattoo, almost afraid to hurt her …didn't you? He rose his gaze to meet her eyes. 

It's a double symbol, not to forget – a snake because this animal is the symbol of the Lost House of Slytherin, a dragon because that's what "Draco" means in the ancient tongue of my country.        

I see, the Hobbit nodded, feeling a strange pang of sadness and envy in his heart.

Boromir came near the girl and laid a hand on her shoulder. He felt that it wasn't over yet. 

Victoria smiled sadly. Draco was a year older than me and I used to call him a "lucky bastard"  because he would have left school before me… She sighed. We used to say that the last school day would have been something memorable, apart from the "Seventh Year Party" – that probably, thanks to the Gryffindors and the others, we wouldn't enjoy much nonetheless. Draco, Adrian, Mark and I knew some secret passages to sneak out of school secretly and, needless to say, we used them often.

Wasn't it…let's say "**_very_** against the rules"? Legolas  asked.  

You can bet your life, Victoria replied calmly, lighting the second cigarette and taking deep  drag.But what can I say…We Slytherins aren't exactly famous for sticking to the rules, especially Gryffindors' rules… A strange light flashed in her eyes. …And then, what's so fun in following the rules?

And then what happened? Pippin asked, curious.      

Well…We kept on sneaking out after Mark and Adrian left as well. Her eyes filled with tears, and certainly it wasn't because of the smoke. Draco and I used to say that when he graduated, we would sneak away from school and from that boring party and we would have hung around and had fun on our own. 

What would have you do? asked Aragorn, who didn't trust their concept of fun.  

We said that we would dance until we dropped on the floor exhausted and drink until we roll under the table, all drunk… She closed her eyes, trying to drive the tears back. …but we never did it. 

She searched in her pockets and pulled out the packet of cigarettes again, watching it closely as if she had never seen one in her whole life. Finally, she put it back, resolving to help herself for the third time. 

We planned to do the same for my graduation – that would have taken place this year.

It means that you won't be able to get your diploma, since you're here. Frodo realized. 

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. Probably I wouldn't get it nonetheless. We're in October and the school year ends in June. It's a lot of time to spend at Hogwarts… She frowned. …And nobody ever said I would have reached graduation. Not whole, at least, if I know my schoolmates. 

Don't you think you're exaggerating, girl? Gimli spoke up, earning himself a dirty look from Boromir, Frodo and Legolas and making Victoria shrug her shoulders again.      

You weren't there, Gimli. You weren't there when they slaughtered my Housemates. You didn't have to endure their insults and their accusations unable to shoot back or you risked to end up more in trouble than you already were. You weren't ambushed and beaten to a pulp "by unknown persons" in the privy.   

Don't tell me they had the nerve to such a thing! said Aragorn, astonished, as Boromir stiffened visibly and Frodo opened and closed his mouth, unable to say a word. Legolas and Gandalf watched the girl sadly and Merry, Sam and Pippin couldn't help but feel guilty. 

How do you think I got this? Victoria said, pointing at a scar on her left eyebrow, broken by a punch. Certainly not bumping into a door. 

Dear Valar… Boromir murmured, hanging his head and squeezing her shoulder tightly. 

Victoria stared at the floor, but, after a few moments, she forced herself to recover. 

Okay. I think it's enough. Goodnight to everyone.  

Victoria rose and walked toward the door, but somebody caught her by the hem of her sweater. She lowered her gaze and met Merry and Pippin's eyes, full of tears.

I'm sor-ry, Vicky, Pippin sobbed, hugging her and bursting into tears. 

For…for the prank we pulled on you. We shouldn't have locked you up on the balcony… Merry murmured trying to keep his self-control but with little success. 

Victoria smiled. Frodo felt his soul trembling inside of him. By the Valar, how pretty she was when she smiled…But she was always pretty. 

It doesn't matter, guys. There was no way you could know it and then I know that you didn't want to hurt me, she said, hugging them.   

So…you forgive us? Pippin asked, almost not daring to hope. 

Of course! she replied, ruffling their hair. Now, it's better if you go to bed. Tomorrow will be a hard day. 

The two Hobbits wished them all goodnight and walked to their rooms. Victoria turned to look at the others over her right shoulder. I'm speaking to you as well… 

The group broke and everyone went to his or her own room. 

On entering hers, Victoria decided to check the backpack with her things again. She had just finished her task when somebody knocked on her door. She answered and found herself face to face with a quite embarrassed Boromir. 

Is everything okay? Victoria asked, stepping aside and letting him in. Troubles in sight? If you're here to convince me to stay… 

Oh, I abandoned all hope of managing to persuade you long ago!  

Just that, I hope. Boromir didn't reply. Do you wish to talk to me? The girl asked, coming near him. 

More or less…You turned seventeen a month ago, didn't you? 

She nodded. Exactly a month ago. Why?

Well, I imagine that you didn't celebrate  much…And since turning seventeen means coming of age in your parts, then… He didn't end hi sentence and handed her a packet. It took Victoria some seconds to link everything together and come back to her senses. 

But Boromir, you didn't have to…

Come on, open it.

Curious, the girl untied the ribbon and unwrapped the paper. Her mouth fell open when she found herself holding a small crown in her hands. 

Boromir, are you out of mind? You can't give me such a gift! 

Well, one's daughter coming of age doesn't exactly happen every day. He let it slip.  

 It doesn't mat…Sorry, what did you just call me?

Daughter… he answered, lowering his eyes.

Victoria came near him and gently forced him to raise his gaze. Then she smiled at him. 

Well, now I can tell you without feeling an idiot…Boromir, since I arrived here you've been the closest thing to a father I've ever had. 

You see… Boromir started, gently taking the chaplet from her hands and slipping it  around her head, on her forehead.  …this coronet has belonged to my family for many generations, since before the King left Gondor. As the horn is passed down to the older son, this chaplet was passed to the daughters, who wore it until they married. He took a couple of steps back to get a better view of her. It does suit you well. 

Boromir… I can't accept such a gift. Victoria moved as to take it off, but he stopped her.     

I want you to have it. It must stay in the family.

Victoria threw her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she could. Sometimes I wonder what I would do without you… she whispered against his shoulder. I love you. 

I love you too, _élif neién._ Seeing her puzzled look, he added It means "my daughter".  

Victoria smiled amusedly. Does it mean that I can start calling you "dad" from now?

If you wish… He didn't say that he would be glad if she did so. 

Okay…dad. She giggled nervously You know, I've just realized that I never called "dad" my, ehm, "real" father. 

Well…Neither Faramir and I called "dad" ours. 

Our parents weren't exactly there for us, eh? Victoria sighed. 

Aye. This time it was him who take her in his arms. Remember, Victoria: whatever happens, I will always be there for you, understand? 

Victoria nodded, than something came into her mind. B…dad? 

Aye?

Would you mind calling me "Torey"? 

Torey? he repeated.

She nodded again. Draco used to call me like that…I liked it, more than my full name.

All right…Torey, He kissed her forehead. _Tais rei neién_…My child, He broke the embrace. Do not forget it.

I won't.

He smiled at her. Now I must go. I kept you awake for too long. Sleep tight, _dilàrlis_. [Author's note: "little star"]

'Night.

Victoria heard the door closing and sat down on the armchair next to the fireplace, thinking. A sigh left her lips. For the first time in years she felt safe, at home. She couldn't help but smile joyfully. Her hands raised to her forehead and slowly she took off the chaplet and studied it at the firelight. It was a thin but robust circle of silver, with a tiny silver wire wrapped around in a spiral. 

Silver… she murmured, grazing the coronet with a finger, as if afraid to spoil it. …just like one of my House colors.

Victoria rose and walked into her bedchamber. From her trunk she took one of her white and green Slytherin scarves she had decided to leave there and wrapped it around the chaplet. Then she put the bundle in the backpack she was going to carry with her. In spite of the dangerous mission that was waiting for them, she felt her heart light as it had never been. 

She fell asleep with a smile upon her face, which hadn't happened in a long time.      

…I bet she's still sleeping! Gimli the Dwarf grumbled as they left the hall where they had had their last breakfast. He was talking about Victoria, who was outstanding in her absence. 

You have no proof to say so, master Dwarf.  Boromir replied, even if deep down he thought that he was right and placed the blame upon himself for that. Probably Victoria was getting back the sleep he had made her lose the previous night.  

Gandalf was about to intervene, but right in that moment they came out in the main court and a voice brusquely rebuked them.

It was about time! Victoria cried out, raising from the wall she was leaning against. To be nobles you have a concept of punctuality absolutely depreciable. Didn't mama tell you that it's not polite let a lady wait? 

What lady? Legolas shot back grinning. Victoria made a face at him. If it had been Gimli to say such a thing, she would have transformed him into a snail, at least. With Legolas, things had gone better during the last days. Now, Victoria treated him like every girl treats her older brother – teasing him and reminding him that he was "too old for this kind of things" (and she was quite right, since the Elf  was about 2914 years older then her). Obviously, Legolas repaid her attentions completely. 

I've been waiting for you for twenty minutes, Victoria said glaring at them and tapping her watch with her index. 

Sorry, Frodo apologized for everyone. 

Lord Elrond, Arwen and her brothers Elladan and Elrohir arrived to say goodbye to the departing Fellowship. It took Arwen about ten minutes to recover from the "Cross rib-crashing hug" that Victoria gave her. Aragorn and she couldn't say goodbye but with their eyes only, but one of those looks was worth a thousand words. 

Good, we may go, Gandalf said finally. Let us leave.

They left Rivendell and set out on the road. 

They met the first obstacle sooner than they thought. To leave, they had to cross a stone bridge that leaned on the two riverbanks without any pillar of sort. The Fellowship had just crossed it when they realized that Victoria was still on the other bank. Still as a statue and pale, she stared at the bridge and at the river with her eyes wide with fear, hardly breathing. 

Frodo watched her. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know what to do…He didn't know anyone who suffered of vertigo like that. A dark spot moved out of the corner of his eye. Boromir was crossing the bridge. He laid an hand on Victoria's shoulder, awakening her from her trance. The two humans spoke quietly for a few minutes, than the girl nodded. Boromir moved by her side and lifted her up in his arms as if she had been weightless, then carried her across the bridge. 

Frodo kept his eyes on the young witch. He saw the way she put an arm around the warrior's neck, how she buried her face against his shoulder as they passed over the bridge…How he wished to be the one who carried in his arms like, the one who hold her close…

The two arrived safe and sound. Boromir put Victoria down. 

Thanks, the girl murmured, embarrassed.            

It was a pleasure. the Man replied smiling at her and taking up his shield. 

They resumed their walking. A screeching verse ripped the air. Victoria raised her head and smiled when she saw Duke, her hawk, flying in the sky above them.   

**1** "_Merilìs_ means "morning star" etcetera: I know, it sounds Mary-Sueish. But remember this detail: usually, everybody knows Mary-Sue as "Morning Star" and calls her so, while Boromir is and will always be the only one who calls Victoria with this nickname.  

**2 "**_bagna cauda"_: Name untranslatable. It's a kind of typical Piedmontese soup, made with garlic and anchovy…  


	10. Chapter X: Southward

Senshi of books: Truth to be told, I should thank for that's one of the best compliments I've ever had. I'm glad I've been useful, somehow…

Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Thank you, I'm really glad you liked this trait of her personality for some did not…

CHAPTER X: SOUTHWARD

How do you fare, little soldier? Boromir asked as he came near the young witch during a break. 

I'm still on my own feet, Victoria replied, smiling at him. 

The Man bent down to ruffle her hair.

Come on, get up, said Gandalf, picking up his staff. I wish to go further before darkness falls.

Yes, sir,. Victoria replied, throwing on the ground the cigarette she was smoking and stubbing it under her heel.

Things were going quite well by now, but nobody knew how long it would last. 

Boromir, Aragorn Gimli and Legolas – especially Legolas – kept their eyes and their ears open wide, ready to intercept any suspicious noise. Apart from Bill the pony, the only other animal in the Fellowship was Duke, who usually soared above their heads or simply stayed roosted on Victoria's shoulder, coming and going whenever he wanted. The witch often joked about herself being more a perch than a master to Duke.  

Legolas turned to Aragorn. Somebody is watching us.

Aragorn nodded, his blue eyes scanning the sky and the plain.

Suddenly, Duke took off from Victoria's shoulder, flying towards a group of trees ahead of them. They heard the hawk letting out his cry, immediately followed by another bird's cheeping. Victoria stopped walking, astonished. She saw a kind of pigeon fly out from the trees, wounded, and turning North-Eastward, but it was immediately attacked by a dark, fast shadow…Duke. Victoria tried to whistle, but the hawk ignored her. It had never happened before. When Duke came back, his claws were stained with blood.

What the heck is the matter with you? Victoria hissed.

Don't be harsh to him, Enchantress, Gandalf said, watching closely what was left of the other animal. I'm almost sure that it was the spy Legolas and Aragorn were talking about.

Really? Victoria asked, bewildered. Gandalf nodded and she turned to the hawk. Well, if that's why you did it…good job, boy, she said, stroking his feathers.  

So, they're already spying on us… Boromir murmured, worried. His gaze shifted from the young witch to the two youngest Hobbits.

Why didn't you tell us anything? Gimli asked, staring at Legolas warily.

We didn't want to alarm the enemy, the Elf replied, almost daring him to doubt his words.

Here we go… Victoria muttered, quickening her pace. She didn't want to get tangled into one of Legolas and Gimli's unending discussions. 

About four hours later, they set up a camp. They were all tired –except maybe Legolas – but the weariest were the Hobbits and Victoria. The young witch had done her best to ignore the fatigue and her aching feet and keep on moving. As soon as they stopped, the first thing she did was taking off the trainers she wore. They were comfortable, but after all that walking her feet felt like two omelets. She lit up a cigarette to relax a little, covering the flame with her  hand.

They didn't risk lighting a fire for their dinner. They had gotten rid of a spy, but there could be others around. They ate a cold meal and then the watches were assigned. This brought up an argument between Victoria and the rest of the Fellowship, because she wanted to do her part as well by also keeping watch, which went against Boromir and the others' judgment. After long minutes of heated discussion, Victoria gave in.

Okay, okay, I give up! If even Billy Yank and Johnny Reb teamed up against me, then… she cried out, waving toward Aragorn and Boromir.

Why did you call them so? Frodo asked as Victoria sat down next to him.

The girl sighed and started explaining. Once, in a Country of my world, a civil war broke out between the North and the South. The typical soldier of the North was Billy Yank, from "Yankee," while the typical soldier of the South was Johnny Reb, from "Rebel"…Boromir comes from the South and is quite passionate, while Mister What's-his-name spent his life with the people of the North…Does it make any sense to you?

Aye, it does. Frodo nodded, a slight smile upon his lips.

Hey, if I had known it, I would have told you about my little nicknames sooner!

If you had known what?

That they would have made you smile, the girl replied. Your smile is beautiful, you should smile more often. 

Frodo looked away, not noticing that Victoria had blushed also.

The girl yawned. Well, I'll go to sleep. 'Night everybody

Sleep tight, _Merilìs_, Boromir said, half-smiling.

You too, Johnny Reb. Have a nice watch, Billy Yank, she added turning to the Ranger, who had the first watch.

The Hobbits couldn't help but giggling.

The next day was even harder. To keep her own moral high and scan the pace, Victoria had started singing to herself. She was very off key, but it was always a distraction in that perilous journey. The only one who wasn't the slightest bit happy about it was obviously Gimli. It looked like he had something to say about everything. That was why Victoria called him "Grumpy," which made him grumpier still.

Why on Middle-Earth are you always singing? What reason do you have to sing so? he asked, cutting her off in the middle of the chorus of a song.

Victoria looked at him seriously. I sing 'cause I have no reason at all to do so, she said in a voice they had never heard before from her, a voice that sounded serious and sensible at the same time. Before the Dwarf could reply, Victoria passed him by and moved ahead on the queue.

Frodo slowed down a little, falling in the back of the line and ending up by her side.  

I didn't mind you singing…Indeed, I kind of liked it.

The girl thanked him with a small smile.

You two, try not to remain behind, Gandalf called them.

Sir, yes, sir, Headmaster, Victoria shouted back at him, quickening her pace.

You have found a nickname for everyone… Frodo said that evening, as he sat down next to Victoria. After Grumpy, Headmaster, Billy Yank and Johnny Reb, what shall we expect from you?

Well, there's Hawkeye, she replied, nodding toward Legolas. Then we have your cousins Dork and Dorkest. Frodo laughed faintly at her words. And Sam…well, he's Sam.

And who am I?

You…you're Frodo blue-eyes.   

The Hobbit blushed deeply. We should find a nickname for you as well… he said out loud for the others to hear.

You can call me as you like… Victoria said, shrugging her shoulders. When I was at Hogwarts, they used to call me many names and the kindest was "filthy snake." I leave the other ones to your imagination…

You are not in Hogwarts now. Frodo laid a hand on her arm. And you won't get back there.

Victoria smiled at him, praying he wouldn't notice how red she had become or how fast her heart beat.

The journey became harder and harder. The evening of the fifth day Victoria was so tired that she refused to have dinner and laid down to sleep immediately.

Poor girl, she must be exhausted , but I haven't heard her complaining yet, Legolas noted.

Boromir, watching Victoria's blanket raising and falling in time with her soft breathing, muttered something about Slytherin pride. 

"I hope she'll get her rest…Valar, she is so pretty when she sleeps. She looks so undefended…" Frodo thought as he watched her.

In that moment, he noticed that Duke had landed on a rock nearby, almost watching over his master.

The next evening, because of the chilly air, Gandalf agreed to light a small fire. The Hobbits were about to drop on the ground out of weariness, but the thought of a hot meal was enough to wake them up a little bit. It couldn't be told the same about Victoria: she was so tired that she fell asleep with her mouth full.

Boromir, who sat next to her, bent down over her and tried to call her a couple of times without results. He had to grab her by the shoulders her and shake her awake forcefully.

Eh, who-what-where-how? the girl muttered, cracking her eyes open.

You fell asleep, Torey, the Man of Minas Tirith explained.

Ah.

A couple of bites later, he had to shake her again, for she had fallen right into Morpheus' arms.    

The third time Victoria put down her plate and leaned on Boromir's shoulder. In about thirty seconds her breathing had become deep and regular and an earthquake probably wouldn't have woken her.

I won't wake her, Boromir clarified in a low voice after looking at her peaceful and relaxed face.

He put down his bowl and managed to get on his feet and lift the sleeping girl in his arms without waking her up. He carried her to her improvised pallet and put her down gently, as if he had been afraid to break her. He hadn't realized that the other members of the Fellowship were watching his every move, so worried he was not to wake her and not to hurt her. He laid her down on the big blanket she had brought, place the cloak she still wore tightly around her body and covered her carefully with what was left of the blanket, not to let her catch a cold.

Victoria shifted in her sleep, laying a hand on her backpack that she used as a pillow. Boromir was a crude warrior from the South, hardened by the fire of hundreds of battles against Sauron's forces, and yet, as he watched that sleeping girl, he felt a great wave of tenderness invading him.

Acting out of instinct, as he often did, he bent down to kiss her brows. Victoria turned on her side and reached out a hand to him, murmuring a foreign word.

_Pap_…   

Boromir smiled. Victoria had told him that in her native tongue that was an informal way to say "father." He held her small hand between his owns.

I'm here, _rei neién_…And I'm not going anywhere. He whispered.

Victoria smiled in her sleep. She did look like a child. The Man of Minas Tirith gently stroked her hair, then he rose and went back to the others.

Boromir had the fourth and last watch. The night was peaceful and quiet, everything looked all right. The only sounds were Gimli's snoring and his other sleeping companion's deep breathing. Suddenly, he heard another noise. It sounded like a choked moan, like somebody who couldn't breathe… Boromir jumped to his feet and came near his sleeping companions, trying to understand who had let out that sound. A sudden movement caught his attention. He turned around and saw Victoria tossing and turning in her sleep. Another painful moan left her lips and Boromir was immediately by her side. Victoria's fist clenched and unclenched, as if she was trying to hold something or somebody who was slipping away, and Boromir, remembering his brother's nightmares, held her hands between his owns. He leaned over her to whisper comforting words and finally, after long minutes, the girl calmed down. The warrior sat beside her, watching over her sleep until dawn, caressing her hair from time to time.

Boromir, it's your turn to wake Victoria up, Aragorn announced in the morning.     

How come that it's **_always_** my turn? Boromir argued, faking a glare.

Because you don't care to risk to have a shoe thrown at you, Legolas answered him, remembering what had happened three days before when it had been his turn to wake the witch up. It had been only thanks to his Elven reflexes that he had managed to dodge the trainer Torey had thrown against him.

All right, I'll go Boromir mumbled, raising and approaching the girl.

Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin ran to get a place where they could enjoy the show safely. Objectively speaking, "Torey's wake" wasn't such a news, but it amused them nonetheless.

Boromir knelt down next to the girl and stared calling her gently

Torey…Torey, wake up, it's time…

Victoria turned wordlessly on her other side, covering herself with her blanket.

Come on, don't be such a child. It's time to go

Nothing.

If you don't get up immediately, I'll throw a bucket of icy water over you, and you know I'm going to do it, Boromir threatened her.

Five minutes… Victoria mumbled, turning on her back  without opening her eyes.

Just one, the Man replied.

The girl cracked an eye open: One? No way. I said five.

Do you want me to tear that blanket away? One minute, not a second more.   

Four. She opened the other eye too.

No way. Two is all I can give you, he said firmly.

Four or nothing, Victoria argued.

I said two.

Four, she insisted.

Two and half, he offered.

Never! she cried out

Then you get up immediately.

No!

Yes!

I won't go below four.

I'll let you three minutes. Take it or leave it

I'll take it, Victoria surrendered, dropping back on her backpack.

A wise decision, Boromir agreed, raising and walking away.

After a couple of steps, he stopped and looked at her over his shoulder, grinning

Hey Torey… Two have already passed.

Go to Hell, Johnny Reb!

Boromir and the others laughed. The show was repeated every morning with little differences in the script, but it was always a funny scene.

They quickly ate their breakfast, then Gandalf put on his hat.

Well… he started, but Victoria cut him off. We know. Okay, guys, it's time to leave.   

During the march, Boromir came near Victoria.

Did you sleep well last night, _Merilìs_?

More or less… the girl answered. At first it was okay, I even dreamt about… she trailed off, blushing.

Your father? Boromir asked, trying to hide the faint sadness that filled his heart.

No. You. She turned to look at him, confused. I dreamt that you carried me in your arms and put me to sleep…and you told me you weren't going anywhere. She averted her eyes to the horizon, avoiding his gaze. My father had never done such a thing for me, not even when I was a child. If I fell asleep somewhere, he shook me awake. Boromir laid a hand on her shoulder and she turned to him. That wasn't just a dream…was it?

No, it wasn't.

Victoria smiled.

What happened then? he asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders. I had a strange nightmare but I don't feel like talking about it. It was as if…as if all the bad things that happened in my life had mixed into a unique dream. It isn't the first time I dreamed about my past, but…I've never had a dream like that, all together. She folded  her arms, holding them tightly against her chest. …It's so weird...  

Boromir hesitated. I do not know what to say, _Merilìs_…I know not what could have caused you that nightmare. Maybe it was the tension and the worry for our journey.

Probably… She shrugged her shoulders. But it was just a dream. And now it passed. 

They kept on walking in silence. Later, when the Fellowship set out again after a short midday break, Boromir and Victoria were separated. Victoria walked in the front of the line, occasionally exchanging a few words with Frodo, while Boromir was in the rear with Aragorn.

Hearing a familiar cry, Victoria raised her eyes toward the sky to watch the majestic fly of the hawk with a faint smile upon her lips.

Vicky…

The girl started, turning around to look at Legolas as she muttered curses against the light feet of the Elves.

Is coming up behind my back like that so funny? Suddenly, she realized that his face was very serious. What's up? Any trouble?

I couldn't help but overhearing the conversation you had with Boromir… he said.

I shouldn't call you "Hawkeye," I should call you "Radar" just like Patil the gossiper… she remarked.

Legolas ignored her remark. I wish to talk with you about that strange dream…And don't tell me that it was just a dream because you don't believe it as well. I know you have been thinking about it for the whole day…And I know it isn't the first nightmare you have had. The girl threw him a puzzled glance and he added, You had one two nights ago during my watch.

I see. What do you want to know? she asked, admitting defeat.

I don't want to know anything. I just want to warn you. I have reason to believe that your bad dreams are caused by the voice of the Ring.

Victoria looked away, gazing at the far away mountains. I hear many voices in my dreams…But I've never heard the Ring's and I can grant you that it's a not voice that can be easily mistaken.

The Ring can mask its own voice very well…And if It didn't speak to you directly, It may have used one of its mysterious powers. I know it. I felt it.

There's no way to avoid that Goddamned thing, is there?

The Elf shook his head. I fear there is not. But you must be on your guard, Victoria. I believe that the Ring is speaking to another person, but with a different propose than giving him nightmares.

Automatically, Victoria's eyes fell over Frodo, but Legolas spoke again immediately. No. Not him.

Then who…?

Think about it. Who is the most probable candidate? he replied.

The girl turned toward the end of the line. Her eyes fell on the figure of a Man who carried a big shield on his back.

Boromir… She turned to Legolas Are you sure? Absolutely and mathematically sure?

No. It's just a feeling, a suspicion…But you must keep your eyes open. And be careful, all right?

Be careful about **_what _**exactly? she asked   

Not to be too involved. He laid a hand on her shoulder. I don't want you to suffer.

Victoria would have almost preferred not believing him. She opened her mouth to reply, but she found herself looking at him in his eyes. What she saw there reflected all his sincerity. She couldn't do anything but nod. Legolas nodded back at her and walked away, but she barely realized it. She turned to look at Boromir over her shoulder and then raised her eyes toward the sky, looking for Duke. She let out that particular whistle and the predacious bird flew down on her arm ready to greet him. Victoria started caressing his feathers, but her mind was a thousand miles away, it had come back to her world. She thought about a boy of sixteen who once had kissed her and told her he loved her. She thought about a boy of sixteen who had fought on his own against everyone and finally had fallen, fallen but not in the Shadow. But the gap he had left was big, a lot bigger then the one left by Adrian, who had fallen in the same darkness that Draco had always fought. Yes, Draco would have always come first in her thoughts…For no reason but being the first victim of the Shadow she had known and who had suffered the most. He had been the most important person of her whole life. And looking at Duke, she really couldn't help but thinking about Draco. For no reason but Duke being all Draco had left her, apart from the memories she kept in her heart and sometimes hurt.        

Victoria turned on her side. That was useless, she couldn't sleep. She had walked all day, fought with the dwarf a couple of times and she was tired. Yet she couldn't fall asleep and she knew perfectly why.

Some of her Housemates – like Ralph Sinclair, Helena Sheldom, Caryson Denham and Martha Tabrann – never managed to sleep before an exam because of their nervousness, while to others – Ianto Dawson, Roger Wong, Sheryl Steel, Blaise Zabini, Shaun Hillray – it happened before a Quidditch match. To all the six First Years – Aibrill O'Brien, Kevin Wolf, Caroline Kelso, Bernard Clover, Thomas Rhys and Dimitri Kowalsky – sleeplessness happened because of their homesickness, while Gawain Morgan sometimes didn't sleep because of his "visions," for the boy had the Second Sight.

"It's a pity that he was only a Second Year…Who knows, maybe if he had been a Third Year and he had already had a whole year of Divination, then perhaps…perhaps things would have ended up differently. Oh, for Heaven's sake, Torey! Hadn't you realized that divagating is useless? You know perfectly well that it's not **_them_** who keep you awake!"

The only thing who could keep Victoria Cross awake was the worry for a person she held dear. She turned around a little, briefly glancing over her shoulder. Boromir sat still in the shadow.

The girl slipped out of the blanket and slowly approached him. She was about to tap his shoulder when suddenly she found herself with his sword pointed at her throat.      

Torey, did you lose your mind? Didn't you know that you could get yourself killed? he cried out, sheathing his sword. I almost had an heart attack when I saw it was you…Why are you still awake?

I…I couldn't sleep, so I thought I could keep you company…if it doesn't bother you, naturally, she added. 

Boromir smiled at her, his features relaxed: You could never bother me, _Merilìs._ Here, sit down.

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other's company. After a while, Boromir cleared his throat and asked her, You couldn't sleep because of your memories?

Well…yeah, also because of that. I must confess to you that I've never been one who goes to bed early…And then, this is a bright and clear night. It's perfect to resolve a certain problem I've been delaying for too long. With these words, she raised her eyes toward the sky again.

You meant to look at the sky? But you always do it. 

I like to do so. I've always liked to. But I'm not looking at the sky, I'm studying the stars. Victoria explained.

Are you knowledgeable about astronomy?

Victoria nodded. I was the first in my class. Even if I didn't take Divination in my Third Year, I've always liked Astronomy. The stars have always fascinated me and then they could help me understand where I am. 

Boromir nodded and left her to her studying for a while. Finally, Victoria lowered her head with a sigh.

Is it something wrong? he asked her.

More days pass and more I realize I'm far away from home… She raised her eyes again. I don't know these stars, she sighed. Definitely, I'm not in another dimension. Yet, this place is similar to Earth that… She shook her head. Is it possible for me to have traveled so far? she whispered under her breath, talking to herself more than to her father. 

Boromir, as he always did when he saw she was depressed, put an arm around her shoulders and  pulled her near. 

You know what? Victoria whispered. I think I'll never return home… She turned to look at him. …and this is definitely a good thing! A broad smile brightened her features.

Truth to be told, you haven't much to go back to. But what will you do if you stay?

Oh, I don't have the slightest idea. But I'll find a way out.

Boromir decided to expose her to a certain idea he had had in his mind since a couple of days before to comfort the Hobbits Victoria had reminded them that their quest and the war would have been long, but it wouldn't last forever. __

Nothing lasts forever, Victoria said as she laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder, who tried to smile at her. Think about what you will do when you come back home. I mean, you must have some plans, don't you?

_Sam will ask Rosie to marry him!Pippin spoke up, gaining himself a dirty look from the other Hobbit._

_They all burst out laughing seeing Sam's crimson face, half-embarrassed and half-furious.      _

I was thinking… Boromir said, a little bit uneasy. …that you could come to Minas Tirith, my city, if you want to. In the end, you are my daughter, aren't you?

Victoria didn't say anything and threw her arms around his neck.

I love you, Torey, Boromir murmured, kissing her forehead and caressing her hair.

I love you too, dad, Victoria whispered.

They spent some time side by side chatting. They talked about their childhoods, about the messes they have done when they were kids and – especially in Victoria's case – also when they were a little bit older.

About three quarters of Boromir's watch had passed when Victoria fell asleep against his shoulder. The warrior of Minas Tirith didn't move an inch, trying to justify staying by telling himself that he didn't want to wake her up. Truth to be told, it was because it felt good to him to have this girl near. It was a strange sensation to him – but incredibly beautiful.

"This must be the way it feels to be a father…" he thought as he listened to her deep breathing.   

When Legolas woke up for his watch, he helped Boromir to lay Victoria down to sleep.

The next morning it was quite hard to wake her up. Fortunately, once she was up, everything went just fine – well, almost.

As the evening approached, Victoria started feeling the loss of those missed hours of sleep. It was hard for her to walk and to keep her eyes open. She often slipped in the back, to Boromir's great worry.

At a certain point, since she had been left behind by the Fellowship, Boromir told the others to go on and he went to get her back.  

You cannot go on like this, Torey! Look at yourself, you're exhausted! You cannot even keep you eyes open!

That's not true… she replied, choking back a yawn.

Don't be silly.

Listen, I'm doing my best! I'm sorry if I slow you down so much, but I can't help it!

I think you can… he replied. Come on, climb on my back.

What? Come on, dad, don't be ridiculous! she said, disbelievingly.

If you cannot walk, then this is the only way! he argued back.

I can walk.

Aye, sure…Come on, Torey, don't be such a child.

Victoria bit down on her nail, looking at him quite unsure. Are you sure you can carry me?

Of course. Come on, climb, he said, kneeling down a little.

Victoria climbed on his back and put her arms around his neck. Put me down if I'm too heavy.

You are not, you are as light as a feather, he lied.

In a few minutes they caught up with the rest of the Fellowship. As they walked on the table-lands, Frodo often turned around to glance at Victoria.

Tonight we shall rest here, Gandalf announced, finally.

How does Victoria fare? Legolas asked, since he had noticed that the girl had been awfully quiet for the whole day and especially during the last part of the road.

She fell asleep a mile ago, Boromir replied, turning to look at her with tenderness.

I'll help you to lay her down, Aragorn volunteered.

Gandalf, can you pass me Victoria's sack, please? Frodo asked.

Here, but why do you ask for it?

Well… Frodo blushed crimson, praying it wouldn't bee too evident in the faint light of dusk. …I'll prepare her pallet.

I'll help you, Mister Frodo, Sam said, approaching. You shouldn't…

Oh, I don't mind, really, Frodo answered.

Here, I'll help you too, Merry added, since he still felt guilty toward the young witch.

Luckily, the next morning Victoria had recovered. She was so much better that the first thing she did in the morning was fight with Gimli because he never stopped complaining about "weak, useless girls." If Legolas, Aragorn and Boromir – helped by Frodo – hadn't stepped in, surely it would have ended up badly. For Gimli.

Frodo, can I have a word with you? Victoria asked nervously the next evening.

Of course, sit down, he replied, making room for her.

Thanks. I need to ask you to explain some about your calendar… she explained.

Sorry if I ask you, but why are asking me about it? You should talk with Legolas or Gandalf…Not that you're bothering me, but they would be more suitable than me, he quickly added.

I see, those two would be the most obvious choice…But you're the first I thought to talk about it. You always treat me as an equal. Legolas sometimes makes me feel like the silly, thorn-in-the-side little sister, and with Gandalf…well, it feels like talking with my old Headmaster, she explained.

He's not so bad… he said.

Merry and Pippin might disagree with you…But it's not because of him. They said my Headmaster is a good person too, but…I'm not at ease and then, every time I ended up in his office, it wasn't exactly for a pleasant chat.

Frodo nodded. I see. What do you want to know?

Victoria started bombarding him with questions about years, months and days, writing everything down on a small notebook.

When the explanation ended, Victoria thanked him and started making strange calculations, chewing on her pencil nervously.

Frodo watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She was bending over the notebook that she had placed on her lap, her pencil clenched in her right hand, her left one keeping the hair fallen from her half-loosened braid away from her face, her expression serious and attentive.

Suddenly, some strange words escaped from the girl's mouth. Frodo couldn't understand a thing, but he would have bet a basket of mushrooms to a plate of boiled cabbages – which he detested – that she was swearing.       

Where is Torey? Boromir asked with a slight note of worry in his voice when, awaking, he realized that Victoria wasn't by his side – where she had fallen asleep the previous night – anymore.

She went that way, answered Gimli, who had the last watch, gesturing vaguely toward the wood. She said she had private matters to attend and that it was going to take a long time…

And how many hours ago did she say that? Legolas asked, almost as worried as the Man.

About one hour and half ago.

And don't you think it has been too much time ago? Legolas asked polemically.

Gimli shrugged his shoulders and muttered something about weird and crazy females.

It's better if we look for her, Aragorn said.

All of us?

No, not all of us, Gimli. Boromir and I will be enough.  

What are we waiting for, then? Boromir muttered, picking up his sword and shield.

I'm coming with you, Frodo announced, taking Sting.

Sam laid a hand on his arm. Mister Frodo, are you sure that it would be wise? He cast a brief glance toward Boromir. He didn't trust that Man.

Victoria took me to Rivendell risking her own life. If she is in trouble, I cannot abandon her. The Hobbit replied firmly. I could never forgive myself if something happened to her. 

I don't think you should worry so much, young Hobbit, Gandalf told him with a light of amusement in his eyes. But if you wish to go with them, than go. 

Thank you, Gandalf, Frodo replied as he came near the two Men, closely followed by Sam.

The light in Gandalf's eyes went out and the Istari spoke to the Ranger.

Keep an eye on him, Aragorn.

Don't you worry,The Ranger nodded.

The four men left the camp, heading to the forest.

It was quite improbable that Boromir would have tried anything, he was too worried for "his little girl," but Sam didn't stop watching his every move nonetheless.

Frodo suddenly stopped and came back. He thought he had seen something among the branches. 

He moved away a couple of low branches and held his breath.

Hey, I have found her.

Boromir, Aragorn and Sam came near. They could see a small clearing beyond the trees and Victoria was there.

Boromir was about to step out from under the trees and call her, but Aragorn stopped him.

Let her be… I think it must be something important.

At first he had thought the scene that lay in front of their eyes strange, but now he felt its solemn atmosphere.

Victoria had stuck her sword into the ground and she had hung around the handle her necklace, from which hung a strange cross-shaped pendant.

The girl was on her knees in front of the sword and the necklace with her hands clasped and her head bowed, whispering words in her strange language. She had put on some clean clothes and probably she had taken a bath in the nearby stream. She wore the Slytherin scarf around her neck and around her head the silver chaplet that Boromir had given her before they left Rivendell.  

Frodo stared at her spellbound. That scene radiated a sense of peace, of comfort and warmness he hadn't felt in a long time. There was a strange magic in those gestures, in those  words he could barely hear and he didn't understand. Victoria, with her dark hair vividly contrasting with the small silver coronet and framing her peaceful and trustful  face, was a sight absolutely enchanting.

That image was carved in his heart and no one, not even the Ring, could ever erase it. 

Let us not interrupt. Let us leave… Aragorn said.

One of us should stay here to protect her, Boromir whispered.

Frodo was about to volunteer, but he didn't have time.

I don't know how she would react if she saw us… Aragorn murmured. …You shall stay here, Boromir, then I will send Legolas. He is very silent and he knows what to do not to be seen.  

Boromir nodded unwillingly. Not that he didn't trust his companions, quite the contrary indeed…It was just that he didn't like that it would have been somebody else to watch over his daughter.

Come, Mister Frodo, Sam said, awaking the other Hobbit from his trance.

Aye…I'm coming, he murmured, casting one last glance to the girl in the clearing.

Victoria approached her companions – who desperately tried to act as if everything had been normal – and folded her arms.

I didn't think you were such meddlers!  

What about you? Disappearing for hours without telling anyone where you are going? Obviously one gets worried! Boromir replied.

Yeah, yeah, I know, it's dangerous, etcetera…But one needs a little bit of privacy. 

Frodo was about to add his two cents, but Aragorn, under Gandalf's suggestion, stepped in: Would you mind continuing your discussion as we walk? We have already lost too much time.

Sir, yes, sir! Victoria shouted, springing into a salute and clicking her heels, then she turned around and marched rigidly to her backpack. She slipped inside her bag her coronet wrapped in the white and green scarf.

Frodo saw that she had put on again the necklace with the strange pendant.

May I ask you a thing, Victoria? Frodo asked as he came near her.

The question had been burning in the back of his throat for the whole morning, but only now, during the lunch stop, he had decided to ask.

'What were you doing on your knees like that?' Did I hit the target?     

Absolutely, the Hobbit murmured, embarrassed, as he scratched his head.

Aye, we would like to know, Aragorn added.

Victoria let out a sigh: I was praying.

You were praying? Merry asked, puzzled.

Yeah, do you ever pray to your Gods? How do you call them, the…

The Valar, Boromir suggested.

Yeah, right, them. Do you ever pray the Valar?

Aye, of course, but why did you kneel down before your sword like that? Aragorn asked.

Victoria shrugged her shoulder: So? I'm not the first one who uses a sword stuck in the ground as a cross. In the end, the shape is quite similar…And then I had hung my cross on the handle.

She took off her necklace and gave it to them to see.

I still don't understand… Merry murmured, watching the crucifix.

Aye, be more clear, Pippin spurred her.

Victoria took a deep breath. Ok, come on Torey, you can do this…

Patiently, she started explaining about her religion and her God.

…and Jesus Christ died on the cross to save us from our sins. To us Christians, the cross is His symbol, she concluded.

Now it is all more clear, Frodo remarked. But why did you go away to pray today? I've just realized that you did it also other times, in the morning and at night, but you never felt the urge to leave before.

Do you remember all the questions I asked you yesterday about your calendar? Frodo nodded. Well, I've made a couple of calculations and I've realized that today in my world is Sunday, the Day of Lord. Theoretically, we Christians should go to church every Sunday. I didn't always do it – I'm a Christian but I don't get along with priest and at Hogwarts there was no church – but I've always prayed in a slightly different way on Sunday, she explained as she helped them pack.

I see. Frodo murmured.

Hey, Vicky! Pippin said. Excuse me, but isn't you surname Cross?

Yeah, why?

And you are called "Cross" because you are a Christian?

The girl smiled. More or less. The family of my father came from England, where most of the people are Christian Protestants. It all started around 1530. The founder of my family belonged to an English Muggle family, but he refused to convert to Anglicanism and preferred to stick to their old religion, Catholicism. So he left his home and changed his surname to "Cross." He could have kept his old surname, but he didn't 'cause his family had never accepted him because of his powers. This is the origin of my surname, but really it doesn't mean a thing. "Cross" is a common surname in Anglo-Saxon countries.

Does your name have something to do with your religion, too? Frodo asked.

No, it comes from Latin and it means "winning girl."

Strange… Merry commented. In the Shire usually girls are named after flowers or gems. The boys' names do not have a specific meaning.

Oh, your nickname surely has. And in my native tongue, also "Frodo" has a meaning, but it's not very flattering**1**…

Why, what does it mean? asked said Hobbit.

It doesn't matter, said the girl, waving his question away.

They took off again and, after a few hours, Legolas approached Victoria.

Excuse me, Vicky, may I talk with you for a moment? It's about what you said today about your religion.           

Shoot.

Well, there are a few things that don't sound quite clear to me…

When they stopped for the night, Legolas and Victoria were still in discussion. 

My goodness, Legolas! You're asking me questions not even theologians can answer! the girl cried out exasperatedly, running her hands through her hair.

Think about it.  How can you be sure that…

Just because nobody ever saw my God, it doesn't mean that He doesn't exist. I mean, have you ever seen your Valar? she argued.

Personally no, but…

Legolas… Victoria cut him off. … saying "I believe it, I don't believe it" is not enough to be a Christian, you need something else

What? he asked

Faith. With this last word, Victoria got to her feet and stormed off, moving away from them.

She was restless and they knew it.

And they talk so much about "the wisdom of the Elves"… Boromir muttered.

But… the prince of Mirkwood started, but the Man didn't let him continue.

Legolas, how is it possible that you didn't understand?

Understand what? the Elf asked.      

Understand that to Victoria, her religion is more than some prayers to a divinity, Gandalf spoke up. Victoria comes from another Universe we know nothing about, more distant than we can imagine. 

Frodo spoke in a low voice. She believes it. It is like…like she had a light, something more, something that keeps her together in spite of everything that happens. I do not know how to explain it…but it must be the faith she talks about.

That was a good try, Frodo… the Wizard tried to reassure him. Comprehending Victoria, her faith and her world is very difficult to us.

Legolas lowered his eyes, ashamed. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… he trailed off.

We know, Legolas, Boromir reassured him. You merely wanted to understand her religion…But try to put yourself in her position. She has lost her home, her family and her friends, she is in an unknown world…If you take her God away from her, what would she have left?

I shall talk to her, the Elf decide, raising.

Good, remarked Boromir.

Frodo followed the Elf with his eyes. He saw him coming near the young witch and sitting down next to her, then the two started talking.

They came back about an hour later.

Are you all right? Frodo asked when Victoria sat down next to him.

The girl nodded, holding tightly the small silver cross in her right hand.

That night Boromir was keeping watch when he heard a noise behind his back. He sprung to his feet immediately and unsheathed his sword, but, to his great astonishment, he saw it was Victoria again.

Torey, you must not come to me like that when I'm keeping watch! Do you realize that I could kill you?

Sorry. 

 He sheathed back his sword and sat down again, motioning for her to do the same.

You could not sleep? he asked.

Victoria shook her head. No, I wanna talk to you.

Any trouble? he asked, frowning.

No, not at all…I just wanted to thank you for bringing Legolas back to his senses, she explained.

I wasn't the only one. There were also Gandalf and Frodo 

Yeah, but you started it. Thank you so much.

It was nothing… he tried to change subject May I ask you why you brought along the coronet I gave you? Not that I mind, but I thought that you had left it in Rivendell with your trunk.

Victoria shook her shoulders. Because. I didn't feel like leaving it in Rivendell. Today I wore it 'cause it's Sunday, and usually on Sunday one puts one his or her best clothes… she trailed off.   

Do you like it? he asked, smiling softly.

A lot, but I still think that you shouldn't have given it to me.

No arguing. I gave it to you and now it is yours. End of the story, he replied firmly.

Well… The girl nervously combed her hair back. …in this case, I've something to give you too.

Victoria…

No discussions, she replied thrusting a small box in his hand Come on, open it.

Boromir opened the cover. The box contained a silver cross a little bit bigger and more square than Torey's one.   

I know you're not a Christian, I'm not trying to say that your Valar don't exist or anything like that… the girl whispered, standing in front of him. …but I'd like you to wear it.

Boromir raised his eyes. It is very beautiful…Are you sure you want me to have it?

Victoria looked at him in the eyes as she nodded, then her gaze shifted over the cross.

Last time I saw my father, it was two years ago, when I came back home for Christmas. She swallowed hard. I knew I wouldn't see him for a while and that I couldn't write him. He was going to fight against the Dark Lord. I was so proud of him and so scared…That's why I bought him this cross. She raised her right hand, grazing the cold metal with her fingertips. So a part of me would have always been with him. She took her hand back and held it against her chest, her eyes full of tears that probably she wouldn't have been able to hold back.

Did they find it on his body? Boromir asked in a low voice. He felt as if he was walking on a frozen lake.

Victoria shook her head. N-no. I've…I've found it…it was still in that box…closed in a drawer. It was hard for her to speak as she tried to choke down her sobs. The first tears were already falling down her cheeks. He had…he had been gone for more than two years…and during that time he never came back home. This was my last gift for him, but he didn't want to bring it with him… She swallowed hard, trying to calm down her breathing. For all that time I had been thinking that…that my father was carrying it as my keepsake…that there was a connection between us, but…but…

As soon as he embraced her, Victoria burst into tears, muffling her sobs against his shoulder.

Boromir didn't say anything. Telling her not to cry would have been useless and then why shouldn't he allow her to pour out her sorrow?

He held her close, softly caressing her hair. When her sobs died down and her breathing became normal again, he wiped away her tears as only fathers can do.

Are you sure you want to give it to me, Torey? he asked as he picked up the box and took out the necklace.

Yeah, the girl answered firmly, her eyes still puffy from her crying. I bought that cross for my father. Nobody else can have it… She took his hand. …so no one but you can wear it. I told you, Boromir: you're the closest thing to a father I've ever had.

The warrior of Minas Tirith nodded and the girl helped him close the chain around his neck.         

No painter could ever paint the light that shone in that moment in Victoria's eyes, nor there is a writer so good to find the words to describe what Boromir felt.

I will do whatever is within my power not to delude you, my daughter, he said, holding the cross in his hand.

Victoria smiled at him. Now it's better if I go to sleep, or tomorrow I'll be dead. She excused herself as she started to walk toward her pallet.

Torey?

Yeah? she asked, turning around again.

You are the best daughter one could wish for.

Again that smile and a veil of tears over her eyes…but this time, they were tears of joy.

And you're the best father I've ever had.

Go to sleep, now. Goodnight, _dilàrlis_.

Goodnight… She realized she didn't know the word she wanted to use. …dad. You shall teach me Gondor dialect one of these days.

All right, but now go to bed.

Yes sir, she murmured as she laid down.

In a few minutes, she was peacefully asleep.

So, Johnny Reb, are you ready for my first lesson? Victoria asked, marching alongside with Boromir.

Truth to be told, I do not really know where to start teaching you… he admitted, embarrassed.

Well, let's work like this. I'll say a word and you'll tell me how to translate it. The pupil's propose was immediately accepted by the teacher.

They had been confabulating for about a quarter of hour when Aragorn – who was in the rear and could understand and speak Gondor's local speech – caught a word of the lesson. Knowing the meaning of the word, he thought he had misheard it, but then he caught another one on the same tone and another again. When he heard the fourth word, he knew he hadn't misheard at all.

Boromir! he shouted What in Middle Earth are you teaching her?  

Exactly what she asked me to teach her, the Man replied, irritated for the intrusion.

Really?

Yeah, Victoria said. You see, Billy Yank, I think that the first thing one should learn when he or she studies a foreign language are the bad words. So, if somebody tells you to sod off or worse you can always answer back.

Well, there's a certain logic in this, Legolas commented, as the Hobbits giggled.

Do as you wish… Aragorn muttered, shaking his head.

Gandalf called them and they took to the interrupted march again. They were going Southward, along the mountains.

1: In Italian, "Frodo" means, more or less, "to defraud, to cheat, to swindle." It's the first singular person of the simple present. (Poor Hobbit!) 


	11. Chapter XI: Caradhras

Alassea: Hey, girl! It's great to hear from you again. Ah, naughty Boromir…Not that Victoria needs encouraging, anyway. Actually yes, I'm a Christian. Good luck with your quest and may it be successful. Thanks for your kind wish and good luck with your story – which I'm going to read as soon as I finish posting this chapter. I had started yesterday, but then I was interrupted.

Disama: I won't make you promises I'm not sure I can keep, but I assure you I'll do my best. However, it depends more on him than me…

Empress Guinevere Sparrow: My point exactly. I wonder why they don't teach them at school… ; )

CHAPTER XI: CARADHRAS

After two weeks of travel, the Fellowship had set up a camp near the foot of the pass of Caradhras. When she finished her daily training session, Victoria  gave up her place to Boromir's new students: Merry and Pippin. The girl climbed up on the rock where Frodo and Sam were sitting to enjoy the show and lit up a cigarette.

Two, one, five.

The swords clashed one against the other, the sound of metal against metal rose in the gray sky.

Move your feet, Aragorn suggested, smoking his pipe.

Mmm, you look good, Merry commented.

Thanks, the Hobbit replied.

Faster, faster, Boromir ordered them.

They are doing fine… Frodo remarked. 

They have a good teacher, Victoria replied, smiling strangely and letting  out a little puff of smoke. She was so caught up in the "fight" that she barely paid any heed to the conversation between Gandalf and Gimli that was going on behind her.

In that moment, Boromir clumsily scratched Pippin, who dropped his sword. The Man apologized and started bending down to have a look at the cut, but the Hobbit kicked him and made him lose his balance.

Get him! Pippin shouted as Merry joined the "brawl" hollering, For the Shire!

In a second, Boromir was down and the two Hobbits were tickling him mercilessly.

Victoria burst out laughing at that display. She heard Gimli's voice behind her.

Nothing, it's just a cloud. 

She cast a glance over her shoulder. Legolas had climbed on a rock at the edge of the ravine and was straining his eyes to see as far as he could.

It is moving quickly… Boromir added. …and against the wind!

In that moment, Legolas realized what it was. Crebain from Dunland! he shouted.

Hide! Aragorn ordered, pushing away their things.

Torey! Merry! Pippin! Boromir called out.

By his side, Aragorn was shouting at Frodo and Sam to run for cover.

Victoria barely had time to turn around and fetch her backpack when Legolas caught her by the shoulders and shoved her behind a bush. Then he disappeared behind a rock.

"What the heck…"

She didn't have time to complete her thoughts when the cloud fell upon them. Birds black as the night, with flaming, mad eyes, flew down from the sky, screeching and searching between rocks and bushes.

Victoria lay unmoving, frozen. She had never seen such a thing and it was something that would have sent chills down the bravest Gryffindor's spine.

Safe in their refuges, the members of the Fellowship of the Ring held their breath, waiting for them to pass. Finally, the feathered tempest passed away. One by one, the ten companions crawled out from their shelters. 

Spies of Saruman! Gandalf cursed. The passage south is being watched…We must take the pass of Caradhras.

Hearing those words, nine pairs of eyes turned to the great mountain that stood out against the sky, proud and menacing. The tenth was searching the sky worriedly.

They started gathering up their belongings when suddenly they heard two loud screeches, muddled and mixed with the sound of the fight, while another cry of anguish rose.

Pale as a ghost, Victoria watched as her hawk and one of those crows angrily fought, mixed in an inseparable tangle of claws, feathers and beaks. Her eyes where fixed on the two fighters, but the she saw another scene, a scene she had witnessed to six years ago.

One of the worst things that could happen to a First-Year Slytherin girl was running into Ronald Weasley, especially if said girl was Victoria Cross. He was Harry "Perfect" Potter's best friend, she was Draco Malfoy's best friend. It was clear that the two could never get along. Usually, they tended to ignore each other…or so they had done until that very day.

Hermione Granger, Potter and Weasley's best friend, had been assaulted by the monster that wandered about the school…the monster of Slytherin. If you belonged to his House, it was definitely a bad moment to cross the hot-headed  Gryffindor's path, right when he felt the need to let out his anger and frustration over something, anything…or, better still, somebody.

_He had never cared about the small Slytherin who hung around with Malfoy, Pucey and Flint, but now it was different. He started tormenting her and making unpleasant insinuations. _

_Victoria, seeing where he was going, tried to walk away. She quickened her pace and held her books tighter against her chest, praying to meet somebody…But the corridor was empty. _

_Weasley said something really nasty, Victoria shot back. They started insulting each other and each other's House, until the red-headed Gryffindor roared that the Slytherins were all filthy deceitful worms and should have been kicked out. They deserved to go to Azkaban and that son of a bitch of a Malfoy was the first. _

_That was too much. Victoria turned around and slapped him so hard that she left the mark of her five fingers on his cheek._

_Ron Weasley lost his head and slapped her twice, then grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her and insulting her, making her head slam against the wall. _

_Suddenly, he was seized and thrown away from the girl, who leaned against the wall not to fall down. _

_When the dizziness passed, she managed to focus on the scene: Weasley was on the ground with a hand on his chin and between the two of them stood Draco Malfoy, his left hand still clenched into a fist and ready to strike again._

_So we're laying the blame on little girls now? Draco's face was red. He was breathing deeply, desperately trying to keep his anger in check. Hear me out, Weasley…If you dare to  touch a hair on her head, if you dare to breathe near her, I swear I'll kill, even if I should haunt you down to the Moon. Did I make myself clear? _

_Ron Weasley was taller and apparently stronger than Draco Malfoy…But there was something in the Slytherin's tone of voice and in his look, cold as ice and sharp as a razor, something that sent icy chills down the Gryffindor's spine. The boy nodded._

_Be gone with you, Weasley…And woes to you if I ever find you again less than six feet away from her. Draco's voice was like ice needles. _

_The read-head got to his feet and walked away, feeling those eyes full of anger on his back. _

_As soon as the Gryffindor disappeared from their view, Draco turned to his Housemate. Are you ok? He asked, his gray eyes full of worry. Do you want me to walk you to the Hospital Wing? _

_No, no…I'm fine, really, she hesitated, looking for his eyes. Thank you for helping me._

_Draco grazed her cheek with a hand, an unreadable look in his eyes. They can lay the blame on me as long as they want to…But they must not touch you. I'll cut them into pieces if they but try. _

A sudden movement on her right side, which she saw out of the corner of her eye, awoke her. Legolas had taken his bow and notched an arrow, he was about to shot.

NO! Victoria shouted, seizing his arm. You might shot Duke!

After long, never-ending seconds, the Crebain dropped on the ground, dead, while Duke tried to control his fall. Victoria cast the same spell she had used long ago on Merry and Pippin to catch him. As soon as she held him in her arms, she started checking his wounds with Legolas. Poor Duke had a broken wing, many scratches and had lost, more or less, ten feathers.

Legolas, outstretch his broken wing, please, the girl murmured.

Do you want me to prepare some bandages to put his wing in splints? Sam asked, but she shook her head.

Victoria grazed  the wing with her fingertips, then, when she saw where the fracture was, she pointed her wand against it and murmured a couple of strange words. A bluish light wrapped the wing and the bone was healed. Feeling better, Duke was about to take off  for a test flight, but Victoria's firm voice stopped him.

Don't you dare moving a feather. I'm not done with you, am I? she told him in a commanding voice as she fetched her medicine bag from her backpack.

The hawk obeyed immediately. Legolas held him still and he did his best not to squirm as the girl cleaned and disinfected his scratches.

How long will it take you? Gimli mumbled.

All the time until I've done with him.  Stay still, you! she added, turning to her hawk, who was wriggling because of the disinfectant's burning. Here. All done. Victoria announced as she finished tying a gauze around a deep scratch on Duke's leg.        

Victoria rose, seized the hawk, holding his wings against his body, and carried him to the pony, then she shoved him into one of the saddlebags. Now you'll stay here and don't you dare try flying, ok?

The hawk bowed his head resignedly.

Victoria went to put away her medicine bag. That damned, quarrelsome, overprotective fool! She groaned, shaking her head. But she wasn't talking about Duke.

The ten Fellows started climbing on the mountainside.

So, guys… Victoria asked, speaking to all and none of them in particular. …are you ready to change from Infantry to _Alpini_?      

_Alpini_? Frodo repeated awkwardly. 

That's a special army corps. They are soldiers trained to fight on the mountains, where the altitude is high and the temperature low.

Interesting… Boromir noted.

A few minutes later, Victoria discovered that, apart from Legolas, Aragorn and herself, the others would have preferred to stay in the Infantry corps: the three of them were the only ones to feel at ease on them mountains. Yet, when the snow deepened to the middle of Victoria's calves, the two Humans started having a hard time as well.

As if wasn't enough, while she almost fell flat on her face after getting her foot caught in a hole, Victoria saw Legolas pass her by, walking on the snow without leaving a single footprint.

But…but… She stammered with her mouth wide open, too shocked to formulate a decent sentence.

An Elvish characteristic… Aragorn placidly explained to her, without hiding his broad smile.

The snow is beautiful, isn't it, Vicky? The Elf shouted at her. But probably you cannot really appreciate it from your point of view…

Oh, yeah? The girl replied between her clenched teeth. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with an alarming flame and on her lips blossomed a grin just as evil.

Boromir and Aragorn, in the rear, exchanged a nervous glance. They knew Torey well enough to know that they should be very, very worried.

The girl bent down and picked up a couple of handfuls of snow, shaping a big snowball, and, at the same time, she cast a glance over her shoulder.  

It was like she had pulled out a billboard four meters long and three meters high on which there was written "The first who breathes a word will regret it for the rest of his life."

The two warriors nodded silently. After all, they were curious to see how the scene would unfold.

The girl aimed carefully and then threw her bullet, which smacked Legolas right in the back of his head. The Elf turned around, trying to wipe away the snow from his neck but with little success. He didn't need to wonder who had done it.

The snow is beautiful, isn't it, Pointed Ears? Victoria shouted, laughing in his face.

You little… Legolas started to run toward her, firmly decided to make her pay.

Victoria shrieked and tried to run, but her fall back was prevented by the deep snow. She didn't get very far: in a few seconds, Legolas caught her and started tickling her mercilessly. Elves weren't ticklish and he enjoyed seeing the young witch writhing and falling on the ground, laughing her head off and unable to speak. After she fell down and rolled around in the snow uselessly trying to escape him, kicking and squirming like a mad girl, Legolas finally let her regain her breath.

Do you surrender?

…y-yes… Victoria managed to choke out, her hair loose and tears falling down her cheeks.

The rest of the Fellowship watched them giggling with an amused smile, Gimli included.

Victoria got to her feet and took back her place in the line, still shaking with laughter.

What a pair of children… Boromir remarked, approaching his adoptive daughter. Are you happy now? Look at the state you're in! The girl tried to wipe away the snow in her hair and on her clothes, but she managed to do so just from her neck up and from the waist down. Here, turn around, Boromir ordered her, barely choking down a laugh seeing her contortions. He started dusting her shoulders and back with his big, calloused hands. Victoria half-smiled. 

Frodo stopped for a moment to look at her, an amused smile on his lips. 

Finished, the warrior told her. You can start marching again, little soldier,

As you order, Johnny Reb. They resumed their march again, this time walking side by side. Well, you must admit that I'm not doing so bad here on the mountain, Victoria said, looking for his approval.

You are a good _Alpina_, Boromir told her as he ruffled her hair. A flame of pride shone in their eyes.

Eh, you know…I was born and grew up under the Alps' shadow. It just flows in my veins. 

The Man of Minas Tirith turned his head sideways to look at her. Tell me about your city,

Victoria started describing Torino, her monuments, the Northern mountains standing out against the sky in the bright days, the river Po that ran through the town center, the fortress, the siege in 1706, the straight roads…

…That's why they say it's impossible to get lost in Torino, she said.

Really? Boromir asked.

The girl hesitated: Oh, well…I did it.

Are serious? How could you? 

Well, the fact that I was looking at the map upside down didn't really help me…

Boromir burst out laughing and the others, who had heard the witch's tale, imitated him.

If you managed to get lost in a city with straight roads and with a map… Boromir started, still laughing. …then I shall guide you when you will come to Minas Tirith, or else who knows where you would end up.

Here, tell me about Minas Tirith! Victoria spurred him. I've already told you everything about Torino. If you ever ended up there, surely you'd find your own way better than I did when I dropped here.

No offence, Torey, but I hope I have a sense of direction better than yours.

Not that it takes much… Legolas spoke up, teasing the two Humans.

Nobody asked for your opinion, Radar! Victoria shouted at him.

I have already told you not to call me Radar.

Do you prefer "Sonar"? It's more or less the same thing!

The Elf opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by Aragorn, who gently scolded them both. Why don't you save your breath instead of quarreling?

Truth to be told, he was quite right since the more ahead they went, the deeper the snow became.

Did you hear what Billy Yank said? Torey said. Save your breath, so you'll get it all back on your deathbed.

Elves do not die, you fool!

I wouldn't count on it if I was you…_Tu a mia non mi vieni appresso_.

Legolas understood perfectly the expression Victoria had used, because she had told it – or rather "screamed it" – at Gimli a few days before. It meant more or less "You won't follow my funeral, I will follow yours because I will kill you first."

On the other hand, Victoria didn't understand what he shouted at her, but judging from the glance Frodo – who knew Elvish – threw him and Legolas' tone of voice, she was sure that it was some bad word.

You Italians have a strange sense of humor, Boromir noted.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. Come on, talk to me about Minas Tirith.

Boromir started his tale, as they kept on walking into deeper and deeper snow.  

The gaps between the members of the Fellowship grew wider and Frodo started falling in the back. The Hobbits, who knew but the plain and the sweet hills of the Shire, were not meant to challenge the mountain.

Frodo lost his balance and fell, rolling backwards on the snow. Fortunately, Aragorn stopped his fall and helped him on his feet. The Hobbit hurriedly looked for something under his clothes and suddenly his face lost all its color.

The Ring lay on the snow a few feet away.

Before the Ring Bearer could take a single step, somebody lifted up the chain that held the Ring.

Boromir… Aragorn murmured.

Yeah. Boromir.

The Man of Minas Tirith had a strange expression on his face as he studied the jewel hanging from the chain. It is a strange fate…that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing… He whispered, but it wasn't him that spoke. …a such a little thing…

Boromir! Aragorn repeated louder, watching him with a stern gaze. His voice broke the spell.

Hearing his own name, Boromir came brusquely back to his senses. He tried to hide it, but he felt confused, as if he had suddenly fallen back on Earth.  

Give the Ring to Frodo, Aragorn ordered, still keeping his eyes on him.

As you wish… Boromir replied slowly, as he came near. Frodo grabbed the chain the Man was handing him and quickly fasted it around his neck, glaring at him.

…I care not 

Boromir ruffled his hair and started marching again, but the Hobbit drew back. Frodo's eyes fell on a figure standing on the snow, watching them from afar. It was Victoria. As he watched her, a voice started whispering to him that she, like Boromir, belonged to the Mankind and Man couldn't be trusted…

"Oh, hush!" Frodo shouted mentally, shaking his head forcefully. This time he was sure he wasn't wrong: even if the voice that had spoken was his own, the words came from the Ring. But, as he walked, he avoided looking at the young witch again.

Boromir readjusted his shield on his back and started walking, trying to understand what had happened. For a moment he had felt far away, detached from everybody…almost a stranger to what was going on. Then Aragorn's voice, his look and Frodo's look…he wasn't sure of what had happened exactly.

He raised his gaze and his eyes met Victoria's violet ones. There she was, the girl he considered as a daughter, standing in the snow, watching them, unmoving. The dark green cloak draped around her shoulders allowed one to catch a glimpse of her strange clothes, the hawk resting on her shoulder, her right hand clutching the cross she wore around her neck, her face framed by the white and green scarf she had wrapped around her head from which had escaped some locks of dark hair, the strange expression on her face and in her eyes…He lowered his head, burning with shame.

He didn't have the courage to look at that dear face and those eyes full of sorrow, even if not one nor the other reproached him for what he had done. He kept on walking, tormenting himself.

She had turned around when she had heard Aragorn calling Frodo's name, just in time to witness to the last meters of his fall. She had got scared on seeing the Hobbit sliding down, even if it had been for those few meters…But her slight apprehension had turned into an icy fear, that had fallen upon her freezing completely. She had stood there, watching Boromir pick up the Ring, she had seen the expression on his face and those on Aragorn and Frodo's. She had been assaulted by many emotions mixed together, inseparably smelted one into the other without any continuity. Her right hand had unconsciously raised to clutch the cross instead of falling down on the hilt of her sword. She could do nothing but stand still. And watch.

Watching Boromir as he came back to Earth, as he tried to understand what had happened, to hide his emotions and to lessen the matter.

Watching Frodo as he cast him those glances, the same she had received from the members of the other Houses more than once.

Watching Aragorn as he slowly eased his grip on the hilt of his sword.

Watching, and because of this feeling like she had been carried back in time. Going back to sixteen years old, watching her own Housemates falling on the ground with bloodstained uniform, one by one, like ears of corn.

Back to fifteen, watching Draco as he died day by day, slowly consuming himself in the tiring fight against the others and against himself, trying to understand which road he should take.

And for a moment, she felt like she was sitting on those stands again, watching Draco as he fell, unable to move a finger…but it wasn't the same. This time it was different. Also because this time she had felt torn in two: part of her wanted to run to Boromir and comfort him, explain to him that he didn't have to act tough at all costs, she wanted to find a way to hold him tight and not let him fall in the Shadow…but another part of her also wanted to run to Frodo and erase that look from his face, make him understand that what had happened wasn't Boromir's fault.

Torn, divided in two. That was how she felt.

She met Boromir's eyes for a moment and right then she knew what she had to do. She waited for him and when he passed her by she started walking next to him. They walked side by side without speaking, their faces serious and expressionless, their thoughts unreadable.

Boromir was aware of her presence, but he didn't have the courage to look her in the eyes or to walk away, because having her near felt good, very good. Suddenly, he felt a small, warm hand slipping into his own. He lowered his eyes on their intertwined hands, his own big and strong and Victoria's small and dark one. A strange sense of warmness spread into his whole body until it reached his heart. He gently squeezed her hand and Victoria squeezed his own back. He could feel Aragorn and Frodo's eyes on his back. They couldn't see their clasped hands, he was sure of it…But Victoria was walking by his side and this was suspicious. He was twenty-four years older than her, he considered her a daughter as she considered him a father: it was his duty to protect her from everyone.

You should not stay by my side, Torey, he whispered in a voice so low that not even Legolas would have been able to hear him. He tried to take his hand back, but she didn't allow it, strengthening her hold almost desperately.

Her answer was a single word, a word in Gondorian dialect whispered with half the half of a sigh: _Édnie_…

Boromir winced at that word. _Édnie_, dad. He met her eyes: a new flame sparkled inside of them and wouldn't be put out that easily.

There was no need of words, their eyes spoke for them. They carried on side by side, like two soldiers. Like father and daughter.    

When the snow became deeper, they had to part. Boromir carried in his arms Merry and Pippin, who otherwise would have sunk in that white and icy cloak. Victoria slipped behind them, almost watching their back. Behind her came Aragorn, who carried Frodo and Sam.

Suddenly, the girl stopped and waited for the other three to arrive.

Frodo! she called, approaching. The Hobbit turned as he could and met her eyes. Forgive him… she said lowering her voice a little. It's not his fault. I just wanted to tell you.

After she said those words, Victoria raised her head and looked at Aragorn in the eyes. In that gaze there was such a burning fury that the Ranger felt a chill down his spine.

And you… she hissed against him. Try to chill out, Billy Yank, she turned and walked away, leaving them behind.

Aragorn watched her, confused. He had felt hatred in her voice, a terrible hatred. He knew that Victoria had bonded deeply with Boromir, more than with any other member of the Fellowship. If she had seen him grasp his sword when Boromir had had the Ring in his hands – and after that sentence he was sure that she had seen – it was logic for her to feel anger and rancor toward him…but even hatred?

I don't think she likes you very much, if I can say so, sir, Sam remarked.

It seemed that it hadn't been just his impression. He couldn't know that when Victoria had felt torn between Boromir and Frodo, there had also been a part of her that would have gladly slapped him and Legolas. Also because by slapping the two of them, she would have hit those twenty-five boys with white hoods and hands stained by her bothers and sisters' blood. 

They finally reached the Pass. It was a narrow strip of rock enclosed between the mountainside and the void. It was cold, terribly cold. The ten Fellows and the pony hardly went on in the deep snow, the icy wind blew against them, throwing snow in their faces and preventing Duke from flying as he had done till then. He was now forced to stay huddled under his mistress' cloak.

Truth to be told, it was probably Victoria the one who was having the hardest time of all, with her fear of heights. She walked sideways, grazing the rock wall with her back and never taking her eyes off the edge of the precipice. She was so scared that she didn't bothered to insult Legolas as he passed her by, walking as if he had been on a green meadow in a summer day. 

The Elf went ahead of Gandalf, who was the head of the line, and walked almost on the edge of the ravine.

There is a fell voice on the air! he warned them.

It's Saruman! Gandalf shouted, trying to be heard above the howling of the wind.

Right in that moment, some blocks of snow fell down from above, barely missing them.

He's trying to bring down the mountain! Aragorn shouted and Victoria, in spite of the situation they were in, was about to tell him "Oh, really? We didn't realize it!"

Gandalf, we must turn back! Aragorn shouted again.

 NO! Gandalf answered, pulling himself out of the snow and walking to the edge of the ravine.

So started a duel of magic, made of words shouted in the wind. A lightning bolt stuck the mountain, causing an avalanche. Gandalf barely managed to throw himself against the rocky wall to avoid being swept away that the snow buried them all. 

Legolas was the first to surface, then came Gandalf, followed by all the others.

Where is Torey? Boromir asked immediately, helping Merry and Pippin to reach the surface and scanning every inch of snow.

As soon as he pronounced those words, the girl came up, hardly breathing.

Frodo, who had looked for her with his gaze as soon as he had managed to open his eyes, turned to check on her conditions. In spite of her heavy clothes, she was quite blue with cold. She trembled and chattered her teeth between multiple curses, but she looked fine. Her hair was covered with snow and ice.

"She looks at least seventy years older," the Hobbit mused. "But, after all, there's always that strange air about her, that makes her look old beyond her age…"  

The Ring Bearer pulled himself together on hearing Boromir's voice.

We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!

The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard! Aragorn argued.

We cannot pass over the mountain! Let us go under it, through the Mines of Moria! Gimli proposed.

Hearing his voice, Victoria turned to look at him, choked back a laughter and barely managed to  keep herself from asking him "Hey, Father Christmas, were you shrunk during the washing?"  

That was no time for quarreling.

Gandalf hesitated, he looked caught in a terrible dilemma and worried. Finally, he sighed: Let the Ring Bearer decide.

Frodo opened his eyes wide, caught completely off guard. He didn't feel ready to take such an important decision. He looked at Sam, as if he had been looking for advice, then his eyes slide to the shaking witch. If Gimli had said the truth about his cousin, then…

We will go through the mines, he said , trying to look more confident than he felt. 

Gandalf let out a resigned sigh: So be it.

Okay, folks, I think it's time to show a clean pair of heels if we don't want to become ten icicles… 

Ten what? Pippin asked, gaining himself an exasperated glance from Victoria. Not now, okay? 

They started heading back, but the descent proved harder than the slope thanks to the snowstorm that "that damned son of a bitch" – quoting one of the less insulting things that Victoria said about him – had sent against them.

Nighttime found them still on the mountain.

They found shelter under a projecting rock and built a fire with the dry branches that had carried with them from the valley.  

Brr, it's so cold… Pippin murmured, his teeth chattering.

With these wet clothes, we'll surely catch a cold… Sam said, rubbing his ice-cold hands together.

Here, let me,Victoria offered as she pulled out her wand and waved it in the air. _Iterum calefacium! _From the tip sprung ten orange bubbles, one for every member of the Fellowship. As soon as a bubble touched one of them, it burst with a faint "pop" and then his clothes were dry and warm, as if they had been hanged for the whole day in front of a stove.

The effect of the spell didn't last but a few minutes, but it was enough. The flames started rising higher, so there was no need to do that again. 

When they finished eating their meal, Victoria took a small, yellow tube from her medicine bag. Here, give me your mess-tins.

Bewildered, the others obeyed. The young witch pulled out her wand and transformed the ten bowls in ten glasses.

Sam let out a low whistle: Good job, miss,

Oh, that was nothing, she replied, shrugging her shoulders and smiling. She filled the ten glasses with water and then she threw inside every glass a white pill she took from the yellow tube. Her nine companions watched her astonished, especially caught off guard by the strange pills and their reaction with the water.

Victoria waited until the pills melted completely, then handed back the glasses, which were eyed suspiciously and handled with the utmost care, as if they were about to explode.

What's this? Pippin asked, voicing everybody's thought.

Aspirin, Victoria replied as she put away her bag.

As-what? Merry asked suspiciously.

Aspirin. It's a medicine, she explained calmly.

With a name like that? Gandalf asked, puzzled.

Well, that's the common name. But if you hear the scientific name, you'll get scared…

And what would that name be? Legolas asked while he studied the contents of his glass.

Acid acetylsalicylic. The rest of the Fellowship looked at her with eyes wide open. I told you you'd get scared…Anyway, now drink. It'll spare you a cold or worse. 

And who assures us that this acid ace…that this thing is not poisonous? Gimli spoke up.

Victoria rolled her eyes. Heavens, that's an aspirin, even children can have it…I think I had a hundred of them in my whole life and I'm still here

Maybe it was because of those things that you turned out like this…

The witch's eyes narrowed: Do you want to be turned into a worm?  

Please! Gandalf intervened. Don't you start again, you two! This is not the time nor place for silly quarrels.

Yes, Headmaster. But now don't act like children and drink those aspirins. She set a good example by drinking all the contents of her glass. The others, with a resigned sigh, followed her lead.

Bleah! Frodo remarked as he made a face.

Don't complain, Victoria told him as she gathered the glasses and retransformed them. It spares you the cough syrup, which is a hundred times worse…Or, even worse, the Pepperup Potion. 

Is it so terrible? he asked.

It burns like Hell. And then there's always the collateral effect, The witch explained.

What kind of collateral effect? Boromir asked, curious.

For the whole day you have smoke coming out from your ears. That can be pretty annoying. Suddenly, she realized that one of the glasses she was transforming was still full. Hey, who didn't take his aspirin?

I didn't, Legolas replied placidly. I thank you for your concern, but I don't need it. Elves do not get sick.

Victoria approached him with a huge smile on her face – which practically shouted "trouble ahead!" – and thrust the glass in his hand. There's always a first time for everything…**_Drink_**. she told him in a voice that allowed no reply. 

The poor Elf could only obey. He gulped down the medicine with a disgusted face.

 Now, now. I can grant you that Elvish food is worse, Victoria said, retransforming his glass and gaining herself a glare.

What do we do now? Pippin asked.

We stay awake,  Gandalf answered.

Seeing the astonished expressions on the Hobbits' faces, Aragorn started to explain: It would not be wise to fall asleep in the snow. We would risk not to awake anymore.

Gandalf passed them a small flask of an Elvish potion, given to him by Lord Elrond himself, that warmed their hearts a little.

But soon the Hobbit began to feel drowsy.

We should find a way to stay awake, remarked Sam, always the practical one.

I think I have an idea, Victoria said, preceding Aragorn and Gandalf. First, we must stay as close as we can, then we must talk.

Talk? Merry asked doubtfully.

Victoria shook her shoulders: Do you know any other way?

The Hobbits were the first to start, telling some funny stories that had taken place in the Shire, then it was Gimli's turn, then Gandalf's, Legolas', the two Men's and in the end came Victoria's turn, who tried to hide a yawn.

Poor Merilìs, you must be very tired, Boromir said.

Don't you worry, _édnie_, I'm fine. A shadow darkened her eyes. It's not the first time that I have stayed awake all night…But it's just the second one.

Frodo frowned, worried. He had learned to know that look. Did something happen…when you attended Hogwarts?

Victoria nodded, staring at the dance of the flames. Sometime, during the school year…especially after a Quidditch match against Gryffindor, that he never won…well, Draco went out at night.

I thought you did so often, Legolas said, confused.

Yeah, we went out to have fun far away from school…But it was all the four of us. He went out alone and secretly, she swallowed hard. I knew, I've always known, even in my First Year…You see, he had to pass in front of our dormitory to go outside and the third step creaked. I was the closest to the door, which shut difficultly. I was a light sleeper, so… she sighed. You don't know how grateful I was to the House…Sprites for never fixing it. Thanks to it, I always knew when Draco went out…and, more important, when he came back.

You never wondered why he went out at night? Frodo asked her.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. I didn't really find it unusual…I thought that maybe he wanted a midnight snack or to have a walk to the Astronomy Tower… She covered her forehead with her hand. My Lord, how blind I have been! And yet I didn't discover it until Draco came to stay with me for the summer between my Fourth and my Fifth year Victoria was silent for some seconds, than she started talking again. Lucius Malfoy… she murmured. It has always been Lucius Malfoy's fault.

Was he… Boromir started, but Victoria didn't let him finish his sentence.

Yeah, he was Draco's father. And the first name in the List of People That I'd Gladly Kill With My Own Hands. She closed her eyes. Draco had never led an easy life: not at school….and especially not at home. 

What do you mean? Frodo asked softly, even if he could guess the answer.

His father beat him. And I'm not talking about a slap given occasionally, just to put a cheeky boy back in his place….No, those were real thrashings! That criminal had the nerve to use the Cruciatus Curse! On his own son!   

Cruciatus Curse? Sam repeated disbelievingly.

Victoria bit down on her lip and nodded: It's one of the three Unforgivable Curses. Using them on a human is a one-way ticket to Azkaban, the English wizard prison. It's an horrible place where people go mad and let themselves die, they lose their will to live and their good memories, that are suckled away by the Dementors… She clenched her fist, her own nails cutting her flesh. Nobody deserves to stay there more than Lucius Malfoy! And that would still be getting away too easily!

Is this Curse so terrible?Aragorn asked

Victoria slowly raised her head, until she met his gaze: You have no idea, Billy Yank…Thank God, none of you has the slightest idea of it. Her eyes were empty and far away. The Cruciatus Curse is pain, pure pain, over every possible and imaginable limit. One doesn't die because of it…but can go mad because of the pain. I don't know exactly how it works, but I can tell you one thing: it does work

You speak like one who passed thought it… Boromir whispered, not doing anything to hide his anguish.

Victoria shook her head. No. I've never been put under the Cruciatus Curse, but I've seen what it can do on another human being.

It wasn't… Legolas started, but then trailed off. Maybe if he didn't say it out loud, it would have been different.

But Victoria nodded. Yeah. It was Draco. And it had been his father to put that Curse on him. She clutched her scarf between her hands. That filthy bastard…I hope he'll burn in Hell! It took her a great effort to keep her self control. But that's not exactly what we were talking about…We were talking about my night of watch…

The rays of the dying sun came in through the window of the Fifth Year Boys' Dorm. Laying on his bed, the only occupant of that room, looked at the sun that was sinking at the horizon, like it had been a sentence of death.

_Draco, don't do it._

_He turned to look at the pale fifteen-years-old girl that stood with her back against the door. You know that I have no choice, Torey,_

_Oh, bullshit. We always have a choice._

Oh, yeah?the boy jumped to his feet, his gray eyes blazing with anger. And what other choice do I have, eh? Come on, tell me!

The girl bowed her head. I'm sorry…

No, I am sorry…I shouldn't have raised my voice, he apologized. 

Don't. It was my fault. I should have checked if my tongue was connected to my brain before speaking, She raised her violet eyes, full of angry tears. But you can't let him keep doing this to you, Draco.

He is my father, Torey, Draco murmured, leaning outside the window.

He's not a man, he's a beast!

I didn't ask to be his son…

The girl was silent for a moment, than moved to stand a few meters behind him. You can always decide not to go.

He shook his head: I can't, Torey. You know that.

No, I don't know that!

Torey…

Don't "Torey" me! You won't go there tonight and that's enough!She marched to the door and blocked the doorway, anchoring herself to the frame with he hands and feet. You'll have to pass over my dead body.

Torey, don't be such a child… Draco said calmly.

She shook her head, tears threatening to fall. No. No, no, no…I won't let you go. I cannot.

As you wish, he sighed. He picked her up and moved her away from the door. She burst into tears and held on to him. D-don't go, Draco…Please…

Draco Malfoy started caressing her hair tenderly as he kissed her hands. Sshh…please, Torey, don't cry…You know that I can't avoid it.

_Slowly, the girl calmed down. The boy took her by her shoulders and gently pulled her away from him. Don't you understand, Torey? If I don't go, I'll just make things worse._

_Victoria raised her head, proud and firm. Then I'll come with you!_

_You can forget it. If he discovers you, if he knows that you know…God, I don't want to think about it!_

_What would he do, spank me? He'd cast me in the Cruciatus Curse to make me keep my mouth shut? If you can endure that, then I can do it as well. _

_But I couldn't stand for him to do such a thing to you… He took her hands between his own. And then he wouldn't just stop there, as he does with me…He'd kill you. He searched her eyes. And to me, that would be worse than any Curse. He pulled her close, grazing her forehead with his lips. I couldn't live without you, Torey. You're everything I have. _

Usually… the girl murmured. …when I heard the step creaking, I simply turned on my side and listened to his footsteps as he passed. But that night...that night I got up from bed and tiptoed to the door. I opened it a little, just enough to take a look outside…so I saw him and he saw me. We stood still looking in each other's eyes for a moment, then he motioned for me to come back in.__

_The girl closed the door and leaned her back against it for her legs couldn't hold her. She held her breath, straining her ears to hear even the faintest sound. With her mind's eye she saw him descending the last steps, cross the empty Common Room, slowly open up the secret door and slip in the dark corridor. Then he would be suckled by the shadow. _

_She dropped on the floor and she didn't move anymore, sitting still and waiting. If she couldn't go with him, at least she wanted to be sure that he had come back on his own legs. _

Victoria's voice was little more than a quivering whisper, it seemed made with glass splinters: I spent the whole night on that floor, waiting, **_praying_** for that damned step to creak… She turned her eyes away from the fire and shook her head. …but it didn't happen.

_Victoria checked the time on the clock on the fireplace mantle, wriggling her hands. Draco hadn't come back yet. She had stayed awake all night, waiting to hear the usual creak of the step, to her like an "all clear" siren, but in vain. She cast a last glance to the window and decided to take the matter into her own hands. She took off her pajamas, put on the first clothes that she could find in her closet and threw a cloak on her shoulders._

_A few minutes later, the rising sun soaked Hogwarts' castle, shining upon the windows, the tall towers and a small figure that was running desperately toward the locker room of the Quidditch teams. Still panting heavily, Victoria came near the door and listened carefully. At first she didn't hear anything, but then she thought she had heard a faint noise. She didn't need to think twice. She grabbed the handle and threw the door open, ready to cast a spell…but then she dropped her wand.  Draco, her best friend, the boy she loved, was laying on the floor, beaten and bleeding. He barely managed to turn his head when he heard her coming. He tried to raise an arm, as if to shield his face, then he recognized her and from his broken lips came a hoarse whisper: Torey…_

_My God, Draco…the girl sobbed, throwing herself by his side. Here, I'll help you._

I think he had been trying for hours, but I couldn't do it…

Hold on, Draco…Lean on me, she said, putting an harm around his shoulders and the other around his waist.

_Leaning on her, the boy managed to reach the castle. At the bottom of the stairs, Victoria hesitated for a moment.: Draco was quite heavy and was slowly losing his battle against the darkness that menaced to swallow him, he could barely stand…She couldn't carry him to the Hospital Wing on her own. Slytherins' dungeon was closer. _

_Come on, we're almost there… she murmured, holding him tighter. _

_She walked him to his dorm, in which he was the only occupant left, and helped him lay down on a bed._

_I'll go to call for help,_

_Unable to speak, Draco tried to grab her harm to stop her, but she was already on the threshold. He tried to get up, but his legs couldn't hold him and he fell on the floor. Halfway down the stairs, Victoria heard a suspicious thud and came back to check on her friend: she found him on side, as he struggled to get up and helped him to come back to bed.     _

_Draco, listen to me…_

_He didn't let her continue, catching her by her arms. No, Torey, you must listen to me…Don't call anyone, please, in a few hours I'll feel better and I'll heal myself, really. I've already done so other times_

_But…_

_This must not be discovered, I've already told you that…I can't let him hurt you._

_Victoria looked at him in the eyes, then nodded slowly, resignedly. Fine, I won't speak of that to anyone. But now lay down, you must rest… _

_She helped him and stay by his side until he fell asleep. She hadn't shed a tear and she didn't even fell the need to do so. No, as she watched that beloved face covered with bruises, all she wanted to do was choke Lucius Malfoy to death. _

Victoria stared at the fire, that far and sad expression on her face. You know…Once I asked Draco for how long it had been going on. She closed her eyes for a moment, then she opened them again. He answered, "As far as I remember."  She lowered her voice to a whisper. You should have seen his back…

It's…it's horrible, Merry murmured, shocked.

How could he do such a thing?! Legolas asked, disbelieving.

The others expressed their indignation and their pity for that poor boy as well…All except Boromir.

The Man of Minas Tirith stayed silent, watching the flames and thinking about his brother so far away.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Do…do you want me to sing something? Just to stay awake… Victoria murmured uneasily. 

Gandalf nodded: All right.

The girl took a deep breath and started singing the strangest song they've ever heard, that was then followed by others just as strange. They weren't sure to like the music so different from the ballad they were used to. The songs Victoria sang didn't tell a precise story, but revolved around the feelings of one person that was part of a bigger story and then they had such a weird rhythm…As if that wasn't enough, Victoria wasn't exactly a good singer, in truth she was very far from that. They let her sing nonetheless because it was obvious that with all the songs and ballads that  they knew, Victoria's songs were the only ones who would have kept them awake through the night. Not even a deaf man would have been able to fall asleep.

From time to time, the singer was shaken by fits of coughing, false like Sauron's word, that covered a word or a piece of sentence. This happened because Victoria was singing rock songs and some things the songs said might cause her audience an heart attack, so she had had to invent this system of censorship. But she couldn't spend half the night coughing, so after a while she asked if she could tell a story instead. The others accepted the change enthusiastically.

Firmly decided to keep them awake at all costs, Victoria started telling them all the thrillers she had seen or read that she could remember, challenging them to find out the murderer. When she ran out of thrillers, she skipped to adventures movies, western movies and even a couple of comedies. She still sang some songs, between one movie and the other. Even if the songs were more effective, the Fellowship preferred her stories, also because Victoria told them in such a way that it was quite clear what she thought of a certain character or of a certain situation.

So the night passed, between stories and songs sang off-key.

When the sky started to light up in the East, after a long pause, Victoria sang her last song.

They would have wondered if she had chosen that song on purpose or simply lead by a personal preference…It was hard to tell, even for Legolas, who could feel the emotion of the other people. During those minutes of silence everyone of them had closed himself in his thoughts or in his memories…and suddenly, they heard her singing softly and turned to look at her. Victoria was leaning against the rocks, her eyes closed and a strange expression on her face.

Some days I sit, starin' out the window

Watchin' this world pass me by

Sometimes I think there's nothing to live for

_I almost break down and cry_       

Suddenly, her tone of voice passed from quiet resignation, from simple ascertainment of the reality of things to anger.  

_Sometimes I think I'm crazy,_

_I'm crazy, oh, so crazy_

_Why am I here, am I just wasting my time?_

And then the tone changed again, becoming calm, full of love but with a strange sadness underneath…And from the words she sang, Boromir realized where he had already heard that song. It had been in Rivendell, in the garden near the fountain, when Victoria watched the sun going down behind the mountains, thinking about her father.

_But then I see my baby, _

_Suddenly I'm not crazy,_

_It all make sense when I look into her eyes, oh_

_Sometimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders_

_Everyone's leaning on me_

_'Cause sometimes it feels like the world's almost over_

_But then she comes back to me_

It was the last four verses that captured everyone's attention, more than the rest. It was those verses that made them wonder why she had chosen that song and why she was singing it that way, differently from the others, as if she had been sending a message to one of them, to all of them. But maybe in that song there were several messages, some for only a person, some for everybody.

My baby girl keeps gettin' older

I watch her grow up with pride

People make jokes, 'cause they don't understand me

They just don't see my real side

I act like shit don't phase me,

Inside it drives me crazy

My insecurities could eat me alive

But then I see my baby,

Suddenly I'm not crazy

It all makes sense when I look into her eyes, oh

Sometimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders

Everyone's leaning on me

'Cause sometimes it feels like the world's almost over

_But then she comes back to me_ 

Listening to those words for the second time, they had no doubts: the chorus was for them, for all of them…But especially for Frodo.

Suddenly the rhythm changed, becoming more similar to a fast speech, and the words melted one into the other so that even Legolas could hardly follow them.

Yeah, and if I could sing, I'd keep singing this song to my daughter   
If I could hit the notes, I'd blow something as long as my father  
To show her how I feel about her, how proud I am that I got her  
God, I'm a daddy, I'm so glad that her mum didn't want her

Now you prob'ly get this picture from my public persona  
That I'm a pistol-packing drug-addict who bags on his momma,  
'Cause there's a lot of shit I keep bottled that hurts deep inside o' ma soul,  
And just know that I grow colder the older I grow  
This boulder on my shoulder that gets heavy and harder to hold  
And this load is like the weight of the world  
And I think my neck is breaking should I just give up  
Or try to live up to these expectations? now look,  
I love my daughter more than life in itself,  
But I got a wife who's determined to make my life living hell  
But I handle it well, given the circumstances I'm dealt  
So many chances, man, it's too bad, coulda had someone else  
But the years that I've wasted are nothing to the tears that I've tasted  
So here's what I'm facin': 3 felonies, 6 years of probation  
I've went to jail for this woman, I've been to bat for this woman  
I've taken bats to people' backs, bent over backwards for this woman

Man, I shoulda seen it comin', ( fit of cough)

Woulda ripped the pre-nup if I'd seen what she was planning  
But heck, it's over, there's no more reason to cry no more  
I got my baby, maybe the only lady that I adore, Hailie   
So sayonara, try tomorra, nice to know ya  
My baby's traveled back to the arms of her rightful owner  
And suddenly it seems that my shoulder blades have just shifted  
Its like the greatest gift you can get  
The weight has been lifted

Now it don't feels like the world's on my shoulders

Everyone's leaning on me… 

Victoria sang the last two verses looking Boromir in the eyes.

…_'Cause my baby knows that her daddy is a soldier_

_Nothing can take her from me._**1**

Nobody spoke. The sun had risen, the night was over. It was time to resume their journey and leave the mountain. They retook the descent interrupted the day before, but none of them could get that last song out of his head.

Only Boromir had understood its complete meaning, remembering the first time he had heard Victoria singing it.

That was the song from a father to his daughter…a father that Torey had never had and that she had found only recently. Sure, she had also sung it for the others, and especially the chorus for Frodo…But she had sung that song for him, maybe trying to make him understand what she had seen in his heart that, apart from the sincere love she bore for him, had encouraged her to walk by his side.

Boromir thought how different the two interpretations of that song had been. The first time it had been softly and sadly hummed; the second it had been sung with pride and force. It wasn't an hymn of defeat, a mock for what she had never obtained anymore. 

Frodo had understood for who was that song as well. As he walked in the deep snow, his eyes rested now on the young witch, now on the Man of Minas Tirith. Watching him, Frodo couldn't help but thinking what a strange destiny was theirs. Divided by the Ring, bound by a girl with dark hair and melancholic eyes. And by a song she had sung for them. Her way to tell them "I am here".  

**1**: Eminem, Hailie's song.

And, for now, that's all, folks.


	12. Chapter XII: The attack of the wolves

Alassea: It does matter to me. I'm very proud for the Seal of Apporval, it made really happy. By the way, I am a bad singer as well…but sometimes I simply don't care and sing nonetheless. I love music and songs in general way too much.

Empress Guinevere Sparrow: I'm glad you liked it because the part of the Ring-accident is one of my favorites. For the flashback, I thought that maybe they were a little too much, so I'm really happy you liked them.  

Lightning Rain: I hope you've had a good lightning-watching session and that you'll like also this new chapter…  

Since school is over and holydays have started, I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update…Anyway, enjoy the new chapter. Finally we'll get to know something about Victoria's strange powers.

CHAPTER XII: ATTACK OF THE WOLVES

Author's note: Book-based chapter.

The Fellowship reached the plain just at sundown and set its camp on the top of a hill, inside a circle of trees.

As soon as the sun disappeared into the West, far howls started echoing in the valley. 

Do you hear them? Sam murmured as he tried to calm down poor Bill. They're getting close…

Frodo bit down on his lip, bowing his head. Victoria laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him.

Come, Aragorn called them. You must stay close to the fire 

Suddenly, all became silent.

They have stopped… Merry murmured. Maybe it's a good sign.

No, Meriadoc, Gandalf replied in a serious voice. They haven't started yet.

Be careful, Aragorn warned them.

They didn't wait much. A pair of yellow eyes, like twin flames, lit up in the dark, then another and another one, in every direction. Between two rocks they could just see the silhouette of an enormous black wolf with blazing eyes and bared teeth.

Gandalf stepped in font of his companions as he ordered the Hobbits to add wood to the fire and stand back-to-back.    

The Hobbits did as they had been told and pull their blades out of their sheaths. Also the Wizard unsheathed his sword, which shone in the firelight: Listen, Hound of Sauron! he roared. Gandalf is here! Fly, if you value your foul skin.

The wolf let out a low growl, that almost sounded as mocking laughter, and leaped from the rocks. It fell pierced by the sword of Gandalf the Grey.

Its companions stood still for a moment, almost disbelievingly, than they launched themselves forward baring their teeth, firmly decided to avenge their fallen leader.     

A big part of them didn't cover much space as Legolas' quick arrows nailed them to the ground. 

Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir made the blade of their swords sing and Gimli's axe whistled through the air as he cut down a wolf after the other. But in spite of their undisputed valor, it wasn't an easy battle. The wolves surrounded them from every direction and were about to pass behind their line of defense. Gandalf fought desperately, trying to muster enough time to cast a spell that would have sent them all away, but they were worse than wild-fire. For every wolf you killed, there were two ready to take up its place.     

They heard a cry of pain: three wolfs had managed to slip behind their backs and one of them had scratched Merry. That was the last thing he did. Duke flew down on him, driving his claws into its snout and ripping away its eyes. A strange voice spoke incomprehensible words and the other two beasts dropped on the ground, rigid as stones, after being hit by two rays of light. But Gandalf hadn't been the one who had cast those spells, it had been Victoria…even if she didn't looked like herself anymore. Her eyes had rolled back and were lit with a green light, her body was wrapped up in a silvery aura and her voice…the voice that was muttering spell after spell wasn't her own anymore. There were many voices, both male and female, that spoke all together, chorusing those obscure words. The girl rotated on herself more than turning around and hit a wolf that was trying to jump on Gimli with another spell. Other wolves would have fallen under her blade and her enchants, that night. Gandalf shouted at her to take his own place and Victoria turned her eyes – that shone like green flames – on him and nodded silently.

Gandalf, still throwing spells with his staff, walked backwards until he reached the fire and grabbed a flaming branch. Suddenly, he looked taller and bigger. The wolves drew back, frightened. The Istari threw the branch high in the sky and his voice echoed in the clearing: _Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan i ngaurhoth_!

A white bolt of lightening, brighter than a star, exploded in the dark and the first tree caught fire. The flames passed from branch to branch, from tree to tree, until a circle of fire bloomed on the top of the hill.

The wolves ran away, defeated.

The light of the flames was reflected on the weapons and on the faces of the members of the Fellowship, but one of them still glowed with a light of her own. Their eyes were fixed on Victoria, who stood there wrapped in that silver light and watched with those green-lit eyes the black wolves that fell back, sword in her right and wand in her left.

Her light started to fade, retreating like a wave from the water-line, and her eyes returned to their normal color, but they still followed the enemy's retreat. Hogwarts Snakes seven, Mordor Wolves zero… she murmured, sheathing her sword.

She slowly turned around and caught all those eyes staring at her. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

For a long moment the only sound was the cracking of the fire, then finally Gandalf the Grey spoke, looking at her in the eyes: I believe you owe us some explanations, Victoria.

Oh, the girl murmured, bowing her head and studying the dead leaves that covered the ground as if their image had to remain impressed in her mind.

All the ten of them sat around the fire. The nine men stared at her and she kept her eyes on her own hands in her lap, turning her ring around her finger.

Well, Victoria… Gandalf started gently. …would you be so kind to explain us…? He trailed off, not forgetting the interrogative intonation.

Victoria bit down on her lip, not averting her gaze.

Torey… Boromir spoke up. …if you don't feel ready, we can talk about this tomorrow.

Victoria didn't move, trying to suppress the chill she had felt on hearing her nickname.

I do not agree, Gimli mumbled. I do not like when somebody keeps something important from me…And in my opinion, these powers are very suspicious! He concluded with a dark glare.

I would like an explanation as well, Aragorn backed him up.

In all my life, never I have seen or felt anything of that sort, Legolas remarked, shaking his head slowly. Those powers are so strange…I don't understand why she never told us about them before.

She must have had her own reasons! Boromir replied, glaring at the trio.

I shall say it again: I do not like this. I want to know who we are traveling with and I want to know it now! Gimli roared. I shall not bring a…a strange being into my cousin Balin's house!  

If she does not want to speak, we cannot force her! Frodo spoke up in a firm and stern voice.

Frodo… Aragorn started patiently, but he didn't go further.

That's enough! 

They all turned toward Victoria, who had spoken for the first time. She was speaking with her own voice again and the eyes that watched them behind the two dark locks had the same color as ever…And yet there was something vaguely alarming in her tone of voice and in her eyes. They looked almost normal, but for the light that shone inside of them. As soon as he saw that light, Frodo knew for sure that they would hear another part of Victoria's past and it would be a very dark and painful one too.

You wanted explanation? Fine, you'll have them she said calmly. Her eyes scanned the circle they formed. I just hope that you don't have a weak stomach. She bit her lip again, lowered her gaze for a moment and then raised it again to look at them. Somehow, she managed to look at everybody, giving each one of them the impression that she was looking straight at him. She took a deep breath: Do you remember what I told you during the Council?

They nodded. None of them dared to speak out loud, fearing that a single word would be enough to break the spell that had made her talk.

Well…I didn't tell you everything.

What did you keep from us back then? Frodo asked with a lump in his throat. He wasn't really sure that he wanted to know the answer.

With a quick movement, Victoria rolled her right sleeve up, past the elbow. This.

They startled. All of them, even the warriors, even the impassible Elf. About three centimeters below her elbow started a vertical sign that run down her forearm to her wrist, where it met another horizontal line. A clear track left by the blade of a knife, a T-shaped mark…a scar.

As he stared at it, for the first time in his life Frodo felt able to kill another human being. 

Who did that? Boromir asked, clenching his fist.

The same of the slaughter of Slytherin.

They tried to kill you after you survived the havoc? Aragorn asked.

Victoria shook her head: No. This is a memory of that night. She lowered her eyes. Another memory…

_Victoria Cross fell on the ground like dead. In the Slytherin Common Room stood only twenty-five guys with white hoods now red with blood. _

_You okay? asked the boy who had smashed the chair on the last living Slytherin to the one she had been fighting. _

_Yeah, the other replied, massaging his shoulder. This one is really a  poisonous viper. He commented as he turned her on her back with a kick. _

_One of the hooded boys who was watching the scene looked at his watch. We're almost out of the maximum time. We must hurry.  _

_Right. The curt click of a folding knife, the blade sparkling in the dark. Well, let's finish this one and let's go._

_You're planning something, the second hooded boy remarked. _

_The first one knelt down beside Victoria's limp body and started rolling up her sleeves. He raised his eyes on his mate, then lowered them again on the girl's dark arms. He raised her left arm and started cutting the soft skin. _

You know, I do remember that. I remember the cold of the blade of the knife…the burning…my blood that started pouring out… She lowered her eyes on her scar and started running her fingertips over it. First a cut on the forearm…then one horizontal on the wrist, she raised her gaze. A cut perfectly done, you see?

_She was alone, lying on the floor with her blood dripping on her uniform and on the carpet. They had gone away, lest somebody caught them. Victoria Cross opened her eyes, letting out a sob and a tear. She tried to turn on her side, to rise to her feet…but she couldn't. She tired again, two, three, four times…but she kept on falling back on the ground. Drops of tears fell on her cheeks, like fords. And then, after the last, vain try, Victoria stayed there, on the floor. She stared at the beams of the ceiling, blurred behind the veil of tears. _

_Victoria Cross had surrendered._

It was right in that moment that I saw… She stopped.

What did you see, Victoria? Legolas asked.

I don't know what I saw, okay? She almost shouted, raising her head suddenly. Maybe I imagined it, maybe I was losing my mind…or maybe not, I don't know…

_A sound against the windows, rhythmic and regular…Rain. A strong wind came from the extinguished fireplace, grazing her hair like a caress. Victoria blinked weakly, trying to see: someone was there, she was sure of that. She turned her head toward the window and she saw a blonde-haired boy in the Slytherin uniform who was watching her…Draco._

_Don't give in, Torey, he whispered. Yes, it was Draco, it was his voice, she couldn't be wrong! Don't give in, Torey. You can't die, Torey. _

_Her head was a turmoil, she didn't know exactly how to do it…She closed her eyes and concentrated as much as she could, calling for every bit of her magic. She tried to block the hemorrhage and make her wounds close, tried to call back her blood. But it wasn't enough. Her blood had been absorbed by her clothes and the carpet, she was too weak. _

_She opened her eyes again. Draco wasn't alone anymore, there were other people with him. People like him: boys and girls from eleven to seventeen years old, with green-and-silver ties and white-and-green stripped scarves, a snake intertwining on  the "H" of Hogwarts embroidered upon their hearts. They were twenty-nine. **The Twenty-nine Slytherins.**           _

I don't know exactly how it happened…If it was me or them.

_In the silence of the night, she heard a drop fell…then another, and another. But it wasn't raining anymore. Slowly, from every part of the room, small drops of the ruby-colored liquid started slipping away from bodies now cold. They fell on the ground and weren't swallowed by the carpet: they melted together, they formed a stream, a red river that run toward the girl who was still alive. They climbed on her arms, slipped into her body through the gashes that should have killed her, started circling into her veins. When the last drop was absorbed, the cuts closed. _

_Slowly, Victoria opened her eyes – which she didn't remember closing. She sat up cautiously and inspected her arms. Her tattoo on her left arm looked untouched, but on her right arm there was a scar. Just like she wished. Victoria turned toward the window: Draco wasn't there anymore and the Slytherins…No, the Twenty-Nine Slytherins hadn't disappeared. They'd never left. Not completely. _

_She hardly got to her feet. Her knees buckled, she felt like she was about to faint. She stumbled, leaning against the wall. Then she bent down and threw up. When she rose again, she saw that she had vomited blood. She backed away, always leaning against the wall, until she collapsed in a dark corner. She started crying, cowering in that nook, trembling, her eyes lost and crazy. _

_She was still huddled in that corner when they found her.       _

I kept on throwing up blood for a month, after that, Victoria said. And I still have the scar on my right arm. She swallowed hard, staring at it again. I could have erased it, you know? Just the scars caused by a curse can't be hidden or erased, but wizards and witches can make the ones caused by conventional weapons go away… She was breathing hard. …but I didn't want to. It must stay here, on my arm….and nothing and no one will ever take it away. She lowered her voice. It must stay…This scar on my arm is the only commemoration of the twenty-nine students who died that night, it's their funeral monument…In Hogwarts there will never be a slab of marble with their names carved upon it in some cursed hall. Murderers don't like to remember their victims.

Sweet Eru… Legolas whispered, passing a hand over his eyes.

The others couldn't speak. It was worse than anything they had imagined. Sam, Merry and Pippin looked like they were about to be sick as well. Gimli kept on opening and closing his mouth without a sound. Gandalf watched Victoria with pity and compassion in his eyes. Aragorn looked like he had been turned into a statue. Boromir kept on clenching and unclenching his fist and Frodo…Frodo could understand perfectly the girl's pain, somehow. 

That's where my "strange powers" come from… She lowered her gaze. I'd do anything not to have them, but I do. I got them. Them, and the others.

The others? Aragorn whispered.

Victoria nodded: Inside of me I keep the blood of the Twenty-nine Slytherins, the Last Slytherins…And also their souls are with me. She sighed. I don't know how to explain it…Inside of me, in the deepest depth of my soul, there are their souls, or at least a part of them…I don't know exactly. I carry the power of twenty-nine wizards and witches. Sometimes they take over me. She bit her lip. Truth to be told, I'm not sure if I control them or they control me. When I let them act, well…It's as if my soul stepped back. As if I was outside of myself and I was watching myself fight. Probably I'd be stronger if I let out the Thirty Slytherins, which means my soul in complete communion with theirs… She wrapped her arms around her waist, as if she had been cold. …but I've never tried that. And I don't plan to do it soon.

Why did they choose you, Victoria? Legolas asked, in a broken voice.

Truth to be told, he didn't expect an answer, but he got that nonetheless: Because I was the only one who was still alive.

You cannot be sure of that, Gimli remarked.

Victoria laughed, but it wasn't one of her rare joyous laughter. You're wrong. I know it perfectly well. She turned to stare at the fire. After the death, there was the Vigil.

The Vigil? Boromir murmured.

The girl nodded: From May 1st to May 29th I never slept. My body fell in a kind of trance, like Elvish slumber…but I wasn't sleeping. She took a deep breath. Every night I lived the life of one of my Housemates. From the beginning to the end, minute by minute. I was in their memories and watched all the things that happened to them…and inside of me I felt their sensations, their feelings. She lowered her eyes. Even if now I can't recall everything, I lived their lives…and also their deaths. After a few seconds, she rose her gaze again. That's why I can be sure that they were all dead. She swallowed hard. I saw the last things they saw…I heard their last thoughts… She lowered her voice. …I felt what they felt. I've lived thirty lives and twenty-nine deaths.

It must have been horrible, Boromir murmured.

Victoria shook her head: No. It wasn't. I think there's no word to describe what I've been through… But if there is one, certainly it's not "horrible."   

Silence fell.

Victoria stared at the center of the fire and no one, not even Gandalf or Legolas, could find a word to speak to her. Both Frodo and Boromir felt the urge to held her in their arms and protect her…but somehow they knew that it wasn't the right thing to do. Not now.

The girl closed her eyes and took a deep breath: Well. With your leave, I'd like to go to sleep now. No one answered. Can I go?

Go, Torey, Boromir told her. Try to sleep tonight.

The girl smiled sadly. I'll try. 'Night, _èdnie_, she murmured as she hugged him. 

See you in the morning, _Merilìs_. He didn't have the nerve to tell her "goodnight."

Victoria walked to her pallet and wrapped herself in her blanket, turning her back on them. 

Frodo had awoken in the middle of the night without a definite reason and now couldn't fall asleep again. He could see the carbonized tree branches and the sky full of stars above him. The air smelled of burned wood, which reminded him of the long winter afternoons spent in the Shire at Bag End. But that night his thoughts weren't traveling for hundreds of miles, they weren't bound to the quiet Hobbiton and the even quieter Bagshot Row. No, the center of his thoughts that night was close, very close…He turned around a little and he could make out Victoria's silhouette in the firelight. The girl slept on her side, wrapped in her blanket with her hair down. Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide, staring at the witch. He might have been wrong, but…but he thought that she was shaking. His suspicion was confirmed a second later, when he heard a choked sob.

Frodo kicked away his cloak, approaching her. He met Aragorn's gaze – the Man was keeping watch and he had started rising to check on the girl – and signaled him that he was going to take care of that.

After a brief hesitation, Aragorn nodded and  sat down again.     

Frodo leaned a hand on her trembling shoulder and whispered her name: Victoria… Another sob. Not being tall enough to bestride her, he got round her and sat down by her side. It was too dark for him to see her face properly, but he could see her violet eyes staring at the darkness and the sparkling of her tears.

Hang on, Vivi, he told her. It was the only smart thing that came into his mind in that moment. Do you…do you want me to wake Boromir up? Victoria shook her head and squeezed his hand. Frodo lowered himself to hug her. Ssh, it's all right. Don't be afraid.  

They clang to each other for a while, then Victoria spoke: Tonight the spirits are restless…they and I are. Her voice was a distant whisper.

What do the spirits say?

She shook her head. I don't know. They're just restless. Sometimes it happens.

He hesitated for a moment before asking her that question: And why are you restless?

I've been thinking about those guys under the white hoods…I can't forget them.

Frodo held her tighter. Don't think about them, Vivi. They are not here, they cannot hurt you.

Victoria thought about that for a moment. I know, she said and clutched her cross. It's not that…I wonder if they ever think about what they have done, if they regret it or if they still think that they have done the right thing…Even now that I'm not there to torment them with my very presence.

The hobbit realized that there was something else. Vivi…I know that your religion tells you to forgive those who hurt you… He preferred not to end his sentence.

The girl shook her head. Then I won't be a good Christian. I can't forgive them. They have done too many bad things to me, too many and too big. Maybe God can forgive them…but I can't. Her hold on her cross became almost convulse, other tears fell from her eyes. I hope that they'll burn down in Hell!

Frodo held her close wordlessly. There was no need of words, he felt it. Slowly, tenderly, he forced her to open her fist. The cross had left four red marks on the palm of her hand.

Frodo… Victoria murmured. Would you…would you mind staying here for a while? Just until I fall asleep… She let out a small giggle. This must sound very stupid to you, I know, but I don't want you to go away. Please. 

Frodo smiled and placed a finger on her lips: I won't go away. Don't you worry. He kissed her hand. I am here.

Victoria smiled and her eyes started drifting shut. Goodnight, Frodo…I hope to see ya in the morning.

The Hobbit frowned, confused. Why do you say so?

Because sometimes I don't know if you and the others…are real…or if you're a dream. With these last words, accompanied by a sigh, she fell asleep.

Frodo sat still watching her, caressing her cheeks and her hair with the back of his hand. I am no dream, Vivi… he whispered as he watched her sleep. …but sometimes I wonder if you are not one yourself. He let out a sigh. You are so pretty… 

The first thing that Victoria saw when she woke up in the morning was Frodo's peaceful face. He had fallen asleep by her side. The girl met Legolas' gaze and smiled, trying to look free and easy as she wondered if Elves could hear a heart's beating with their cursed hyper-sonic hearing. She hoped with all her heart that it wasn't so and thought that "Radar" was definitely a fitting nickname for the prince of Mirkwood. She got to her feet and came near the fire to have breakfast.

Did you sleep well, Torey? Boromir asked her.

Yeah, thanks. she replied taking the plate he was handing her. It's, strange, but… she said taking a bite of boiled egg. …since we talked about that, well…I feel better. Lighter, maybe. 

I am very glad that you feel so, Little Soldier, Boromir commented, ruffling her hair.

After breakfast, they took off, heading toward Moria.

How are you, Vivi? Frodo asked as he approached the young witch.

Fine, thanks, she answered, smiling at him. Well…Thank you for staying with me last night.

Oh, that was nothing, he replied, blushing.

They kept on walking; the road ahead was still long. Victoria kept on repeating to herself the name of the place they were going to.

"Moria…"  

She remembered an ancient Latin saying, which said that the name was the thing…But, as Gandalf and Elrond had told her, probably it was just a case if Middle Earth Common Tongue was so alike English. Those words that **_sounded_** Italian, like Frodo's name, were probably just a case as well…Yet she couldn't help but thinking about the way Grumpy described Moria and confronting it with the meaning of that word in her mother language.

He spoke of it like a Dwarf paradise.

Moria.

She did not know what it meant in the local languages, but she knew only too well what it meant in her own.

Moria. Epidemic. Slaughter.

Author's note: I'm not kidding, "moria" does mean that in Italian. It gives me the creeps…


	13. Chapter XIII: Moria

Lightning Rain: Yes, the spirits do know what Victoria thinks or does – they're kind of "living through her," but they rarely interfere. However, Victoria isn't their only source of information: not being tied to the material world anymore, they can feel and know more things than their "hostess."

Sweetlittlecherry: Don't worry, I don't plan to give this up. In fact, I've already started translating the "Two Towers" part and writing the "Return of the King" in my own language.

Empress Guinevere Sparrow: I'm glad you liked Frodo's special nickname for Torey – I had quite an hard time making it up, for I have already used every possibility.

Alassea2: Thank you, I feared it would be as boring as Book-verse Council of Elrond, with all that talking… I'm sorry for your writer block. It has been a while since my last update, so I hope you've got over this crisis. If it's not over yet, don't give up and keep on fighting!  

CHAPTER XIII: MORIA

The sun had almost disappeared behind the fog and the horizon when they entered into a kind of canyon with huge gray walls perpendicular to the ground. 

Gimli opened his eyes wide and let out  reverent sigh, Oh. The Walls of Moria.    

They reached the end of the gorge, passing by a strange lake with unmoving waters, as black as pitch. Gandalf started examining the wall and Victoria came near Legolas. Tell me…we don't have to do free climbing, do we? she whispered, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

The Elf shook his head, No, I do not think so. Don't you worry,

Now, let's see… murmured the Istari, who had found something. Ithildin. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight…

As if his words had been some kind of signal, the black clouds cleared up and the rays of the full moon bathed the gray wall. In the silvery light, bright and luminous signs appeared on the wall, leaving everybody amazed. The signs represented two columns standing beside two trees which embraced them with two branches. An arch rose from the capitals, strange symbols engraved on it. On its left and on its right there were also two strange insignia, like two monograms. Right under the arch, there were engraved seven bright stars, the central – and bigger – of them was also part of a royal crown. Under the crown could be seen a hammer and an anvil stylized and lower, between the two trees, there was a star with sixteen points that reminded Torey of a compass-card. 

Gandalf raised his staff, underlining the words carved in the arch, It reads "The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.

What do you suppose that means? Merry asked, vaguely polemical.

I was wondering the exactly the same thing, the witch backed him up, folding her arms.

Oh, it's quite simple! If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open.

If you say so… the witch remarked arching an eyebrow, not at all convinced.

Gandalf threw her a "You-wait-and-see-girl" glance and aimed his staff at the doors, _Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen_!  

Nothing happened.

He tried to push them, but the doors remained unmoved. Just like two rocks.

The Istari turned to glare at the young witch: Not a word…

Did I say something?! she replied, raising her hands.

But then, three tries later, Victoria couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore. I think it's better if we sit down… she shook her head. If I had known, I would have made some coffee, but anyway…So, Johnny Reb, if I recall exactly, we had a little game hanging over. Do you want to continue it?

Of course, Little Soldier,

Gandalf will find the password soon, Legolas intervened.

Sure, and I was born a Gryffindor…Trust is okay, Radar, but you're exaggerating!

I don't exaggerate at all! he replied proudly.

You sure? Really, really sure? she inquired.

Absolutely sure.

A strange light lit up in the girl's eyes and a smirk curled up her lips: Wanna bet?

The prince and the witch whispered among themselves for a few minutes before shaking hands solemnly. Victoria reached Boromir, who had already took her backpack and the cards.

Good… she flopped down on a rock as she rubbed her hands together, an amused smirk on her face. …who deals? she asked, taking a cigarette.

An hour and half later, they were still there, on that lake bank. Legolas was keeping watch behind them, Gimli smoked his pipe, Victoria had reached the sixth cigarette and the fourth game of cards. She and Boromir were playing snap – the only card game that Victoria knew apart from patience. She had taught Boromir how to play it when they were still in Rivendell – using the round shield as a green table. Not one of them had his or her back turned to the lake.

Aragorn was helping Sam to let Bill the pony go. He was also trying to comfort him for the loss of his four-legged friend. The other animal of the Fellowship, Duke, flew in circles above them, enjoying for the last time the sky and the fresh air. Victoria had tried to send him back to Rivendell or at least to make him wait for them on the other side, but to no avail. The hawk would have followed his mistress to Hell, if it had been necessary.

Frodo sat near Gandalf and Merry and Pippin hung around, bored.

Finished with the game, Victoria was putting the cards away when a soft splash attracted her attention. Pippin had thrown another pebble in the water and was about to throw  a third one when his arm was caught by Aragorn's hand.

Do not disturb the water! he whispered, letting his clear eyes wander on the lake's surface, apparently calm. Boromir moved behind the Ranger's back, watching the black waters lightly rippling. Victoria stood by his side. Billy Yank might not be very high on her A List but, even if she didn't show it, she somehow respected that Man and, above all, trusted his instinct. As she trusted Johnny Reb's warrior instinct and her own. The spirits were restless. Bad sign. She didn't even listen to the conversation between Gandalf and Frodo on her left. Staring at the water, she slipped her hand under her cloak to get her wand.        

A sudden noise startled her, taking her mind off the lake. She relaxed a little when she saw that it was just the door that was opening. Frodo had solved the riddle…and made her win her bet.

She smiled at him, Congratulations, Frodo! You've been great!

The Hobbit blushed and murmured something unintelligible, grateful to the darkness that hid his blush.

With Boromir and Aragorn – who kept on casting quick glances to the lake – in the rear, the Fellowship entered the doors of Durin. In spite of the light that filtered from the threshold, the hall was filled with heavy gloom.

Soon, master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Gimli told Legolas. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin and they call it a mine. A mine! 

Behind his back, both Legolas and Victoria tried to see anything in that thick darkness. Gandalf blew on his staff and the prism that was on its top lit up, shedding a white light in the whole room. In the same moment, Victoria lit up her wand muttering, _Lumus_.

She grew pale, wishing she hadn't done so.

This is no mine… Boromir murmured, his eyes wandering around the room. …it's a tomb.

The lights produced by the two magical beings had revealed a sad and horrible sight: in front of the doors a battle must have been fought and, unfortunately, the house-owners had been clearly defeated. Dwarves' bodies, little more than skeletons, pierced by arrows lay on the floor, dust and spider-webs their shrouds.    

No. No! NOOO! Gimli shouted, his heart torn by grief.

Victoria dropped her backpack at the sight of the corpses, her hands started shaking… She closed her eyes, trembling. Those corpses stared at her with their empty orbs… Her mind carried her back to April 30th. She would never forget the chill that had shaken her body…the sensation that her Housemates had been staring at her with their empty and dead eyes…eyes that couldn't see anything anymore.

Legolas pulled out an arrow from the body of a Dwarf. Goblins! he said examining it, then he cast it away and took his bow, an arrow ready to fly off.

Hearing his words, the other two warriors unsheathed their swords, ready to defend themselves and their companions. Boromir grabbed Victoria by the arm and pulled her behind him, pushing her toward the Hobbits.

We make for the Gap of Rohan…We should never  have come here! he said, thinking of his daughter's eyes filled with terror, that terror that came only from her memories. Now get out! Get out!

The Hobbits backed away toward the door, but suddenly something grabbed the Ring Bearer by his ankle making him fall on the ground and started dragging him toward the lake.

Shouting Frodo's name, the three Hobbits and the witch caught him and tried to snatch him out of that iron grip. Sam threw himself outside and cut off the viscid tentacle with his sword, shouting, Get off him!   

The tentacle drew back. The Hobbits and the witch were dragging the Ring Bearer into the mines when the water exploded…or at least, that was their impression. Other tentacles emerged from the dark lake, pushed away the helpers, wound around Frodo's leg and started lifting him up.  

A second later, Victoria clang to the tentacle as tightly as she could. 

Let him go, you bastard! she shouted, throwing a fireball against the monster.

With a shriek, Duke joined the fight, clawing and pecking furiously.

Aragorn! Frodo shouted, terrified. Then he saw something else. Vivi! he tried to warn her, but it was too late. Victoria was seized by a tentacle. Frodo tried to take her hand, but he couldn't reach her in time.

The girl was roughly pulled away and was about to be thrown against the rocky wall when she managed to cast the beast a Lightning. The electrical discharge was painful enough to convince him to let her go.  

Frodo let out a cry of anguish when he saw her falling. He didn't know what happened to her, because he had to worry about the jaws of the monster that were getting closer and closer.

Victoria fell in the water that fortunately was quite deep. She saw part of the huge body of the beast in front of her and didn't miss the chance to throw him a jet of hot water – the only spell that worked underwater – before surfacing quickly. She saw Aragorn and Boromir, waist-deep in the water, who fought against the monster and hurried toward them as she unsheathed her sword. She heard a hiss and three arrows grazed her, piercing a tentacle that was sliding up behind her back. Barely having time to nod at Legolas, she resumed her race. She reached the two Men and started fighting by their side, cutting down tentacles and casting spells. She almost had an heart attack when she saw Frodo hanging over the monster's jaws, ready to be devoured, but tried to keep her self control. Victoria aimed carefully, then cast a fireball right between that sort of flesh-eating octopus' mandible. The move had the desired effect. Shrieking with pain, the octopus took the tentacle that held Frodo away from his mouth. While Victoria and Legolas kept on showering the beast respectively with sword strokes and spells and with arrows, Aragorn approached that tentacle and cut him down with a single blow. By his side, Boromir was ready to grab the Hobbit at once.  

Into the Mines! Gandalf shouted, pushing the three Hobbits, still worried for their cousin and friend, helped by Gimli.

Hurry, Torey!  Legolas! Into the cave! Boromir shouted, but the Elf stayed by the door, covering the retreat of his four fellows who gained the shore with great effort, still defending themselves from the insidious tentacles.

They rushed inside, followed by the monster. The doors were too small and the mass of the creature destroyed them, making the roof collapse. Frodo barely had time to check if Victoria was with them, then every light went out.

For a moment, there was nothing but darkness and silence, then…

We now have but one choice… said Gandalf in a firm voice, lighting up his staff. We must face the long dark of Moria. 

In the dim light, Boromir saw Victoria getting to her feet while clutching her right elbow.

Torey, what's wrong? he asked, coming near her immediately.

That's nothing, don't you worry. I just stumbled and bumped my elbow as I landed. It'll pass soon…

You are soaked…Here, he said, wrapping his spare cloak around her shoulders. Keep it until you're dry,

Thanks, the girl murmured, huddling in the warm cloak.

They gathered  their bags and got ready to start their march.

What a disaster… Victoria commented, looking at the collapsed rocks. One couldn't pass through those doors even with dynamite… Legolas cast her a puzzled glance, but she motioned for him to leave it. Victoria let out a sigh. Well, at least stubborn-as-a-mule Duke will have to wait for us on the other side…  As soon as she said those words, a flapping of wings contradicted her and said stubborn hawk roosted on a rock, fully bathed by Gandalf's staff. What the heck are you doing here? Victoria gaped, trying to keep her voice low. The hawk flew on her shoulder. You're a thick-headed fool. Just like your master.

She'd die before admitting it, but she was glad that he was there. In a few minutes, the Fellowship was ready to start this dark journey.

Be on your guard! Gandalf warned them. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world…Quietly now! It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed…

Hearing how long it would take them, both Legolas and Victoria winced, even if it was for different reasons.

Four days… the girl whispered, looking her surroundings.

Four days without the daylight, four days buried alive in that enormous catacomb…Victoria imposed herself to stop trembling. "I must do it…Even if this place reminds me of our Common Room the night of 30th April, I must do it." She huddled more in the cloak that her father had given her, gathering her courage, and lit up her wand, following the others.

They walked for hours before stopping to rest. Truth to be told, they hadn't covered a long distance, yet they felt exhausted. Especially Victoria, whose nerves were wrought-up. Frodo approached her slowly and cautiously, just like one approaches a sparrow roosted on a branch. The smallest move and the sparrow flies away for ever. 

How are you? Frodo asked, standing in front of her. Victoria raised her gaze and Frodo trembled. There was so much pain in those eyes, so much desperation…and something else, a spark he couldn't decipher. For a moment, he remembered how he had seen her weeks before, in Imladris, when Boromir had tore her away from that balcony…There was something of that day in her gaze. The young Hobbit thought that in any moment she'd break into pieces and disintegrate in glass splinters, like a crystal knick-knack.  He took her hands between his own: they were cold.

I don't like this place, Frodo… she murmured.

Oh, and who does? he tried to comment lightly. Gimli excluded, obviously…He is the only one at ease here,

It's this darkness that I don't like…And that's weird.

Weird? Frodo questioned, frowning. He thought it perfectly normal.

I've never been afraid of the dark, quite the contrary. I like it. It makes me feel safe, hidden…but here it's different, she looked around almost frantically. This darkness is different. I feel as if eyes are watching us… she trailed of, shuddering. Boromir was right. This is a tomb and I feel buried alive,

Frodo caressed her face. Come on, Vivi…

Victoria took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his own, and smiled lightly at him. Don't you worry. I can make it.

Frodo smiled back: Aye, you can make it. But if need anything, you know that you can  always count on me.

Victoria bit her lip. I don't want to be a burden, Frodo…You've already too many burdens to carry, she whispered, barely grazing his neck with her hand. The Hobbit held his breath; even if she had barely touched him, he felt like his skin was lightly and pleasantly tingling…He prayed that she hadn't noticed the deep blush he surely had on his cheeks.

Don't you worry, Vivi…you are no burden, he murmured quickly.

Victoria threw him another shy smile. Frodo swiftly kissed her cheek. Remember that, he murmured, squeezing her hand one last time before letting it go and walking away.

When, the following day, even though they couldn't be sure if a whole day had already passed, they finally stopped to eat and sleep, Frodo went to sit by Victoria, who sat near the fire and was toying absentmindedly with her ring. She had spent the whole day toying with her ring and smoking cigarettes.

It's going better today, I think, Fordo murmured encouragingly.

So and so…But it's also your merit. I don't know what I would do without you guys around.

Oh, it's you the one who's doing the whole job, Frodo replied.

Suddenly, Victoria stared at the center of the flames. In Hogwarts… she said slowly. In Hogwarts there was a game, if we may call it so…It was played especially by the boys and it was called "How far can you go." Obviously, the teacher didn't know anything. The Hobbit nodded, waiting for her to continue. I've never played it, but Marcus and Adrian did…and sometimes Draco did it as well. She shook her head. As if he hadn't already been a great worry to me.

And then? He didn't ask for explanation about the game: the name said everything he needed to know.

Well, after I started being afraid of heights, sometimes…sometimes I climbed up the Northern Tower of Hogwarts. And then I just stood there. She closed her eyes for a moment. She could almost see the Forbidden Forest, the lake and the Quidditch pitch below her, she could almost feel the wind tangling her hair. I just stood there until I started seeing double and my head started spinning. Then I climbed down…But it took a long, long time before those things started happening.

Why did you do that? Frodo asked, puzzled. He didn't understand.

Victoria smiled strangely. Funny. Once I asked Draco the very same question.

What about him?

He told me "to learn how to dominate fear." She shrugged her shoulders. The matter is that when he played "how far can you go", he risked for real. Not like I did. I cheated.

Because of the legend about the Tower of Slytherin? Frodo questioned.

Victoria nodded firmly. It's not a mere legend. On that Tower I always felt safe…covered. Frodo lowered his gaze and Victoria started turning her ring around her finger again. Then, suddenly, she spoke again. Now it's my turn…

Beg your pardon?

Now it's my turn. Every student in the whole Hogwarts, even Hermione it's-against-the-rules Granger or Percy forbidden-everything Weasley, has played the game at least once. I've always cheated, more or less… She lowered her gaze on the floor. …and now it's my turn to play.

Frodo hesitated. He wanted to tell her that it was no game…but he was ready to bet that she already knew. He watched her, desperately looking for a way to change subject, and his eyes fell on the ring she had kept on fidgeting with.

It must be very dear to you, if you have carried it this far… he remarked.

Eh? Victoria asked, rising her gaze, confused.

That ring… Frodo explained. You never part from it, not even here, and you kept on toying with it. It occurred him and he decided to ask. Did Draco give it to you?

Victoria stared at the ring around her finger as if she had never seen it before. No, it wasn't Draco who gave it to me, I… She frowned, trying to concentrate. …I don't know…where I got it. I don't remember. She whispered slowly, her voice vaguely lost.

Legolas approached them and sat down by their side. May I see it? he asked in a low voice.

Sure. Victoria took it off her finger and handed it to him. Holding it between two fingers, Legolas examined it carefully at the firelight, turning it around and studying its every detail. He paid particular attention to the complicated decoration of the fitting, from which came out two snake heads finely carved that held a deep-green stone.

Strange, Legolas murmured. It looks like an Elvish jewel. Did you get it in Rivendell?

No, the girl replied, shaking her head. I've owned it for a long time. I already had it when I dropped here, didn't I, Billy Yank?

Aragorn nodded. Aye, I had noticed it when we met. Do you remember that I asked you to see it as well?

Victoria nodded. Yeah, I do.

Now that I  think about it… Merry spoke up. …you had said that it looked like Elvish-making, too.

Aye, that's true, Aragorn confirmed.

But then it can't be an Elvish ring, Boromir remarked.

Yeah, impossible. Victoria agreed as she took back the ring that Legolas was handing her and slipped it back on her left ring finger.

But Victoria, in spite of all the things that your people invented, I found it quite strange – not to say impossible – that they managed to create jewels so alike to those that had been made by us Elves.

I don't, since the true masters in the art of working with precious metals and stones are the Dwarves…

Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but Victoria didn't let him. Oh, don't you dare go starting it all over again! And thanks all the Gods, that was all.

They went to sleep, but, a few hours later, Boromir was awakened by Legolas. What? he asked in a low voice not to wake up the others.   

Victoria… Legolas whispered and in a second the man of Minas Tirith was up and awake. The Elf led him near the girl's pallet, where there already were Gandalf and Aragorn.

What's wrong with her? Boromir asked worriedly, watching the waxen and tense face of his child.

We are not sure… Gandalf replied. …but it looks like she is having a nightmare. As soon as he said those words, a choked moan came out from the girl's lips.

Try to wake her or to calm her, Aragorn urged him. We have already tried to do it, but we haven't succeeded.

He didn't need to say it another time. Boromir knelt down by Victoria's side and tried to caress her brows, covered with icy sweat, and her hair. He tried to whisper reassuring words and called her name, but nothing seemed to work.

This is no normal nightmare… he murmured, his heart sinking with anguish for his daughter was suffering. It could be clearly read in the expression of her face and in the pained moans mingled with desperate sobs she let out more and more frequently. The warrior of Minas Tirith turned to the wizard. Gandalf, is there nothing you can do?  

The other shook his head. I have already tried, but fruitlessly.

A louder sob echoed in the room where they had found shelter.

We must make her hush or the goblins will hear her, Legolas murmured as he knelt down.

I can find a remedy for that, Gandalf started casting a spell that would have made the room sound-proof, meaning that every sound from the inside wouldn't have been heard on the outside. He was just half-way through when Victoria opened her mouth to scream. Quick as a lightning, Legolas covered her mouth with his hand, which wasn't exactly a wise move for the young witch started trashing and kicking terrified, trying to free herself from his grip. Boromir and Aragorn rushed to hold her still, gaining a good number of kicks each. Victoria looked like she was convulsing, a blind terror increasing her strength. Gandalf managed to isolate the room, but the sounds of the fight woke up the Hobbits – scaring them a lot – and even the Dwarf.

Victoria finally opened her eyes. Seeing who held her, she relaxed and stopped straining against them.  Each of them gently released her and she listened silently to Gandalf's tale with an impassive face and then apologized to Legolas for biting his hand and to the others for waking them up.

Come on now, go back to sleep, Aragorn told them finally.

Wait! What if she has another nightmare and tries to scream? Gimli asked. We can't risk being discovered because of her.

If they haven't already discovered us, hearing how much you snore… Victoria replied acidly, trying to ease her sense of guilt.

We cannot ask her to stay up the whole night, Boromir said.

The pair received the unexpected help of Aragorn: Surely, Gimli, these nightmares are not her fault.

Hey, hey, no need to argue…I know what to do. The girl intervened, fearing that a fight would break out if she didn't do something. We'll just have to strike the problem at its root. She pulled out her wand and transfigured one of Sam's kitchen utensil into a small pot of earthenware with an hermetic sealing, then aimed her wand at her own neck. _Vocem eripio._

A dirty-white ray hit her throat and looked like it was passing through skin and flesh. In spite of Victoria's commendable efforts, just looking at her face was enough to know that it wasn't a painless spell. Victoria's throat glowed for a moment, then the ray of light came back slowly, a small sphere floating on it. They couldn't understand what it was made of, maybe solid air. Inside of it, liquids and fogs differently colored chased and got the better of each other every second. Victoria took the small pot and closed the sphere inside of it.

Bah, I can't see the use of this! Gimli muttered. Victoria rolled her eyes. So, girl, do you want to give us some explanation or not? 

Victoria throw him a glare between "you-are-a-total-moron" and "can't-you-grasp-it?"

Aragorn spoke up. You took away your own voice, didn't you?

Victoria nodded vigorously.

But how will you get it back? Frodo asked, worriedly.

Instinctively, Victoria opened her mouth to answer, the she remembered that she couldn't speak and waved at him as to say him not to worry.

They all went to sleep, except for Gimli, who kept watch.

The next morning, Victoria just had to open the vase. The sphere hovered in the air and slowly, as if pushed by a light breeze or pulled by a wire, flew toward her neck, going back to place from where it had come. Victoria swallowed a couple of times.

Is everything all right? Boromir asked.    

 Don't you worry, Johnny Reb: everything's just fine. she answered.

Frodo let out a sigh of relief. He had feared that he'd never hear again that voice, that now sounded so sweet to his ears.

For the whole time they stayed in Moria, every time they stopped to sleep the young witch took away her own voice and locked it in the pot, taking it back only when she awoke. In spite of this, none of the other nine members of the Fellowship ever managed to get used to that rite, especially Boromir and Frodo.

During the journey – they could never be really sure if it was day or night – nothing ever happened. They were all too edgy and too busy keeping their eyes and ears wide open to joke or just to chat, like they had done previously. That gloomy place could depress even the Hobbits: plunged in the dark 24/7, forced to climb high-pitched, legs-breaking stairs in absolute silence or to walk down crumbling, dusty and dismal corridors. Always followed by the skeletons' eyeless gazes.

There's nothing much to tell about those days: a succession of corridors, stairs, darkness, stale air, dust, elevated and ruined streets, a succession of skeletons more or less whole. When they stopped to rest, though tired, they had an hard time falling asleep. The faintest sound was enough to make them throw their eyes wide open and reach for sword, the wand, the axe or the bow, their nerves almost at the breaking point. But after dinner they still sat around the small fire to chat for a while, telling stories of happier times to ease a little of the oppressive atmosphere.

During the second "night", Pippin was telling one of his pranks when he started sneezing.

Blow your nose, Boromir suggested him.    

I have no handkerchief, the Hobbit replied.

Wait… Victoria put her hands in her pockets, looking for something. …I should have one. Here, you can borrow it. she said pulling out a creased handkerchief from the pocket of her jeans and handing it to him. She didn't noticed that with it another object had come out of her pocket, falling on the floor with a faint thud.

What's this? Sam asked grabbing the strange thing. It was a gilded heart with a small chain that ended with a strange metal ring, from which hung some strange keys. Is it yours, miss Victoria? he asked, handing her the keys.

Oh, yes, thanks… she said as she took her back, watching them intently in the firelight. She smiled and shook her head. That's crazy…

What? Frodo asked.   

Do you know what these are? They shook their head no. My copy of the keys of my house. I can't believe it! I've been carrying them for all the time! She shook her head. That's crazy.

Crazy indeed, Sam agreed.

Maybe it is a sign… Legolas murmured.

A sign that shows that I shouldn't be here? Victoria asked, folding her arms.

No, that's not what I meant… the Elf explained. I just think that maybe it means that someday you will go back home.

Victoria's face darkened. Who knows…

Boromir squeezed her hand and the girl smiled quickly at him, then turned toward the others again. By the way, Legolas, you owe me some money.

Me? the Elf asked, completely caught off guard.

No, your twin brother. Do you see other blonde Elves, princes of Mirkwood, whose name is Legolas, their surname also and their nickname Radar around here? Come on, spit it out

Here, he muttered opening his purse and slamming about thirty coins in her hand. Not that Legolas was tight-fisted, but losing to a girl **_did_** wound his pride. 

What was your bet about? Aragorn asked, amused.

Gandalf. Well, Legolas said that Gandalf would have found the password and I said the contrary, she smirked.

But Gandalf did say the password… Pippin remarked, confused.

Yeah, but it had been found out by Frodo. Ergo, I won the bet, she concluded as she finished counting the coins and put them away. She turned to the Ring Bearer, smiling brightly. I owe you a favor, she winked at him.

Oh, that was nothing! he replied, blushing.

One by one, they all went to sleep. There were only Gandalf, who had the first watch, and Victoria, who was staring at the bunch of keys that shone in her hand at the firelight. She was about to let it drop when the hand of the wizard made her close her fingers around it.

Victoria raised her gaze, staring at him interrogatively for she had already taken away her voice.

I would keep it, if I was you, he said softly.  

Victoria shrugged her shoulders.

Oh, I know, now you don't understand why…But remember what Elrond said: "nor oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will."

 Victoria turned to gaze at Frodo, who looked like he had found some rest at least in his sleep. His peaceful face, his deep breathing, his head leaning on an arm…

"He looks like an angel," Victoria thought as her heart quickened its pace. Then she noticed a small detail that in her opinion spoiled the picture: his right hand lying on his chest, near the Ring. Victoria frowned. If she had had the voice to do so, she would have surely growled. She raised her eyes toward the ceiling to see Duke, the hawk, staring with angry eyes at the point where the Ring was, hidden by Frodo's clothes.

Victoria thrust the keys in her pocket and went to lay down by Boromir's side, but she didn't close her eyes. She kept on watching Frodo sleep, wondering about his fate. Looking for a sky that wasn't there, she mentally prayed to her distant God. "I have recognized the essence of the Ring, my Lord. It is Evil, I know it well because I've often found myself in contact with it. It's the same Evil that killed my friends and destroyed my House. My soul is still whole, but I don't know what will happen to the Ring Bearer's own. I entrust him to you, my Lord. In Your immense benevolence I beg You to protect him and bless him. Amen."

Victoria fell asleep clutching her cross in her right hand. On the backpack she used as a pillow lay her Slytherin scarf. 

Final notes: Just to avoid flames, I'd like to clarify that Victoria didn't know that Frodo would have figured out the password – she bet against Gandalf even if she though she was going to lose not to agree with Legolas.

Second: does anyone knows what the Hell Gandalf said to open the doors? I copied it from the book, but I haven't found any translation, so I'm a little bit curious.

For now, that's all folks. Have a good summer.  


	14. Chapter XIV: The Bridge of KhazadDum

Shine-Dusk: Wow, thank you! I'm honored!

Kerla: that's exactly what I meant. Thank you for letting me know.

Alanna Aurdomiel: blushes

Empress Guinevere Sparrow: Don't you worry, I'm not going to stop halfway through the story…Hope this was soon enough. ; )

Alassea2: Thank you very much. I'm so glad you updated! Sorry if I didn't go to see your story sooner, but I updated the last chapter right before leaving for the holidays…

Sweetlittlecherry: I definitely will! Thank you a lot.

CHAPTER XIV: THE BRIDGE OF KHAZAD-DUM

They sat between the rocks at the top of a staircase. On the landing, a little bit higher, opened three identical doors. In front of them sat Gandalf, trying to remember which way they should take. Frodo, who sat near him, turned to look at the others. The Fellowship had split in two small groups: on one side there were Sam, Merry and Pippin – who had just complained for the nth time about being hungry – on the other, by the fire, there were Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Boromir…and Victoria, who sat between the two Men, smoking a cigarette. Frodo was wondering what she could be thinking about in that moment, when he caught a movement between the rocks out of the corner of his eye.

He opened his eyes wide, trying to make out the different shapes in the dark. His heart started pounding in his chest when he saw that he hadn't been wrong. He went away from the rock he had been leaning on and came up beside Gandalf.    

There's something down there, Frodo whispered, scared.

Gandalf kept on watching the doors. It's Gollum,

Gollum? the Hobbit repeated, astonished.

He has been following us for three days, the Wizard added.

Frodo was more astonished and confused than ever. He escaped from the dungeons of Barad-Dur!

Escaped… Gandalf murmured disbelievingly. Or set loose. Now the Ring has brought him here. He will never be rid of his need for it, He shook his head. He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself.

Frodo held his breath for a moment. So that creature had been set on their trail like a hound, maybe Sauron was following its movements…It might have had them all killed. It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance, he remarked angrily.

Pity? Gandalf echoed, staring at him sternly. It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?

The Hobbit bowed his head, deeply ashamed. He thought about Torey, about the scar on her arm…How he had felt as he listened to her story, how much he had hated those boys who had hurt her so. Gandalf's severe and calm voice awakened him, Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. What happened to young Victoria should have made you realize this long ago.

I am no better than those boys in the white hoods… Frodo whispered.

Now you are exaggerating…You are like those who judged the Slytherins from their House's fame and their founder's mistakes, that's true. The fact that now you **_think_** he deserves death doesn't necessarily means that you would **_really_** kill him if you faced him. Frodo was listening to him, but his eyes were fixed on the young witch who sat by the Man of Minas Tirith. Using your dear friend's words, you are not a complete Gryffindor yet. But remember this: even the very wise cannot see all ends. Frodo turned to look at the wizard, whose gaze had become grave. My heart tells me that Gollum still has a part to play yet, for good or ill. Before this is over, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.  

Frodo sat down heavily by his side, his head lowered. I wish the Ring had never come to me… He whispered bitterly. I wish none of this had happened. 

So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in the world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.

Frodo hesitated for a moment before speaking. Do you think that it was them who brought Vivi here? But why?

Gandalf sighed. I cannot answer these questions.

Anyway… said the Hobbit. I'm glad she's here. Even if sometimes I think that she should have stayed in Rivendell. He raised his gaze on the wizard. She should not be here, Gandalf…She has passed through too many horrible things. At least she should have been spared from this

What have I just told you, Frodo?

Not to be too eager to deal out judgments… he murmured, blushing. Suddenly, he understood why Victoria had nicknamed Gandalf "The Headmaster."

I can understand your worry. The maiden has surely seen a lot of things, but, just like the others, she has embarked on this journey by her own choice and will not change her mind easily…as she won't abandon the ones she loves. Frodo nodded silently. Gandalf straightened himself a bit, smiling softly: Ah! It's that way!

Hearing those words, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir turned around, Sam picked up his backpack, Victoria did the same crying, Hallelujah, as Merry took off his pipe from his mouth and sprang to his feet rejoicing, He has remembered!

No, but the air smells less foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose, Gandalf replied peacefully.

Victoria met Frodo's gaze. She made an exaggerated face and crossed her fingers.

Frodo shook his head, chuckling. Do you have so little faith in him? he whispered to her as they stumbled down the steep stairs.

It's not that I don't trust him, quite the contrary truth to be told…But do you think I can really miss a chance to make fun of him?

Frodo shook his head again. You are impossible.

Thanks.

The staircase ended in a vast room, bigger than those they had passed previously.

Let me risk a little more light… Gandalf commented.

The light grew, lighting a big part of the cave. Gimli took a deep breath at that sight and also the others could not help but looking around, amazed. They had never thought that the rough, avid Dwarves could have created something so wonderful. Rows and rows of mighty columns stood proudly, disappearing in the dark for the ceiling was so high that even now the light did not reach it.  

Behold! the wizard said. The great realm of the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf.

Well, there's an eye-opener and no mistake, Sam murmured reverently.

_Boja faus_!**1**  Victoria remarked, staring at her surrounding with her mouth open. The whole Mole Antonelliana**2** could fit here horizontally and there would still be a lot of space left! 

They started walking between the rows of columns.

Impressive, isn't it? Frodo murmured to the young witch walking by his side.

The girl nodded, staring at the huge arches, I haven't felt so small since I visited St Peter's Dome in Rome… 

Don't tell me… the Hobbit murmured.

Victoria smiled evilly. Well…All of this confirms my theory.

What theory? Pippin asked, curious.

The one that says that Dwarves suffer of a terrible complex of inferiority. Why did they build columns so high if it wasn't to compensate for their, ehm, height? On her face, lit by her wand's flame, shone a wicked light. 

The Hobbits had to do their best not to laugh out loud as they imagined how Gimli would have reacted to that theory.

Don't let Gimli hear you or he'll cut off your head! Frodo warned her immediately.

Probably, but first he'd have to find a chair and get on it, Victoria replied and this time it was harder for them to contain their laughter.

However, as soon as they smelled the air, they lost all their will to laugh. The smelled a nauseating stench, the same that had met them in the hall.  

Between two columns there was a big door and in front of it lay several Dwarf skeletons pierced by black arrows. From the ajar door came a ray of light that also lit up something else… Gimli started running toward that lateral room and not even Gandalf's commanding voice managed to stop him. They couldn't help but follow him.

In that room, a battle had been fought and it wasn't difficult to understand who had lost: other Dwarf skeletons filled the room, lying in the dust. Right in the middle of the floor, lit by that ray of light – the first they could see in days – a sarcophagus of stone stood out. Gimli fell on his knees and leaned his brows against it, lamenting loudly.     

At that sight, Victoria shuddered and stared at the pale light, not to let the images from her past get the better of her present. She was not ready to face them, not in that moment and not there, God-only-knows how many meters below the surface.

Gandalf came near the tomb and read the words carved on the slab that covered it. Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead, then…It is as I feared.

The Dwarf let out a louder lament. He and Victoria had never got along well, quite the contrary, and yet the girl pitied him. She knew perfectly well how he felt. Victoria approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder wordlessly. She knew how useless words could be in that kind of situation. She knew it even too well. It was strange to see the two "sworn enemies" side by side, the witch trying to comfort the Dwarf. Victoria might think Gimli arrogant, disagreeable and "Gryffindor", Gimli might think that Victoria was just an annoying and mad girl, but in that moment they were united by the pain that one was feeling and that the other had already felt. 

We must move on, we cannot linger, Legolas whispered to Aragorn.

But Gandalf didn't look like he wanted to leave. A skeleton attracted his attention. The Dwarf had died clutching to his chest a big book, whose cover had been ruined by the stroke of a sword or of an axe. The wizard entrusted his hat and his staff to Pippin and bent down to get the book. As he picked it up, some dusty and yellowish pages fell on the ground. Without as much as a second glance, he opened and started reading after blowing the dust off, They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. They were all paying attention to him and to the words he was reading. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.

That had been the end of the Dwarves of Moria.

Victoria bit her lip and let out a long sigh, thinking about her Housemates from Slytherin. Boromir laid a hand on her shoulder for a moment an wished that Gandalf hadn't read those lines.

A sudden noise echoed in the air, startling everybody. They turned toward the corner from where it had come and saw Pippin, with Gandalf's staff and hat in his hands, walking away from a well on which there was the skeleton of a Dwarf covered with cobwebs. Its head was missing. The skeleton fell down the well, dragging with him a bucket and a chain. The grave silence that had reigned until that very moment was completely broken. Instead of diminishing, the noise seemed to grow louder and louder, amplified by the huge halls and echoing in every corner of the mountain.

The ten companions stood still as statues, tense as arch-strings. In the silence that sudden clang had seemed like the flourish of trumpets announcing Doom's Day. After eternal seconds the noise died down and the silence came back again.

Christ… Victoria breathed, bringing a hand to her own chest and feeling her heart pounding.      

Fool of a Took! Gandalf reproached him acidly, snatching the staff and the hat from his hands. Throw yourself in, next time, rid us of your stupidity! 

Pippin lowered his gaze and Gandalf moved as to turn around again when another noise, this time fainter and more choked, froze him on the spot. He slowly turned toward the well, for that was its source. The noise repeated more loudly a second time, then again and again. It was the classical, unmistakable sound of a drum repeatedly hit. Another series of beats answered, then a third. Hellish shrieks started echoing in the hall. 

Frodo unsheathed Sting: in the dark the blade shone with a blue light. 

Oh my God… Victoria murmured, fear evident in her voice.

Orcs! Legolas shouted.

Boromir ran to the great door, looked out and immediately drew back: two black arrows, alike to those that had pierced the bodies of the Dwarves, planted themselves in the wood exactly in the same spot where his head had been. The shrieks were getting nearer and nearer.

Get back! Aragorn shouted, pushing away the Hobbits and the girl. Stay close to Gandalf! He threw away the torch and helped Boromir close the door.

They have a cave troll, the Man of Minas Tirith warned them.

Legolas passed him and Aragorn some axes to block the door, but they all knew that it would just give them a few moments, nothing more.

Victoria unsheathed her sword and pulled out her wand, calling the Twenty-Nine Slytherins. Immediately, her eyes rolled back and lit up with green and the silvery aura wrapped her.

Legolas, Aragorn and Boromir stood in the first line, their weapons ready. The door was attacked.

Let them come! Gimli bellowed, standing on his cousin's grave. There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!

The door started giving under the assaulters' blows, some pieces of wood falling on the ground. One of Legolas' arrows slipped through the small hole and immediately a cry of pain was heard. The arrow had hit its target. The Elf and Isildur's heir shot some arrows, but soon the door flew open under the pressure of that screaming mass.  

For half a second, Victoria and the Hobbits  were petrified. They had never thought that something so foul could exist…The last Slytherin pulled herself together and cast a Lightning against one of those beasts, who dropped on the ground, fulminated. That was like the sound of the charge: the Halflings threw themselves in the fight, firmly gripping their swords. 

But the Orcs had barely started. One of them came in leading by a chain something that smashed the door and looked like a gray and moving mountain. A cave troll. Legolas hit it with an arrow as soon as it stepped into the room, but it seemed useless. Sam Gamgee, who was right on its path, stood paralyzed, staring at the horrible beast. With a roar, the troll raised its weapon – a huge hammer – and was about to strike him. The Hobbit threw himself forward and slipped between the giant's legs, crawling away and getting away unscathed. Roaring, the beast turned to Gimli but the Dwarf managed to avoid the blow jumping down from Balin's tomb. The sarcophagus was made of massive stone, yet it shattered like glass. More furious, the troll tried to hit the Dwarf when an Orc threw him on the ground, but two Elvish arrows pierced its flesh.

Frodo, Merry and Pippin took cover in a corner.

Victoria and Duke were on the other side of the room. For the hawk, it was more difficult than it had been against the Wolves of Mordor. On the other hand, the witch was doing discretely well: she parried the blows with her sword and returned with her wand, throwing Lightings and Fireballs at all the Orcs who came near her.

The troll tried to hit Legolas with his chain, but the Elf, after dodging it twice, managed at the third round to block the chain around a pillar with his foot and to climb on it. He jumped on the troll's back and shot an arrow in its skull point blank, then got down with a nimble jump. Unfortunately, the quick action didn't end as he had hoped. Blinded with pain and anger, the troll launched at the three Hobbits huddled in the corner. He lowered his hammer upon them without hitting anyone, but the Ring Bearer was separated from his cousins.

Aragorn shouted his name, Victoria turned around swiftly. Her heart, that already hammered in her chest, doubled its pace when she found out that he was no where to be seen.

Frodo had tried to hide behind a great column, moving around it so as not to be found by the troll that was trying to smell him. The Hobbit had barely let out the faintest sigh of relief when the giant appeared suddenly on his right with a horrible roar. Instinctively, he threw himself on the left, falling on the ground. The beast seized him as the octopus-like had done days before, dragging him on the stone floor. As he desperately searched for a hook, Frodo shouted Aragorn's name. The Ranger was desperately fighting against the Orcs that blocked his way, trying to reach him. The troll raised its hammer to strike him and Frodo scratched its hand with his sword. He fell on the ground in a corner and was about to be seized but, right in that moment, Aragorn jumped in front of Frodo, shielding him. The Ranger furiously sank a robust spear in the monster's ribcage that seemed to suffer from the blow and the two stones thrown by Merry and Pippin… But with a sudden blow, the beast swept the Man aside, throwing him against the wall. Aragorn collapsed on the floor, unconscious, and Frodo threw himself by his side, barely managing to dodge the spear that the troll had pulled away from its wound. The Hobbit cut him again with his sword and tried to escape by running in the opposite direction, but the spear stuck in the wall and barred his way. He could only withdraw, until his back hit the unyielding wall. With a noise that seemed a grotesque mocking laughter, the troll stabbed him.      

The blow was terrible. He felt as he was breaking in two. Before the black veil fell on his eyes and swallowed everything, on the other side of the room, beyond the beast's body, Frodo saw Victoria's face, painted with horror, shock and anger. A voice full of pain and desperation cried his name, then he could not hear anymore.

She had barely followed the fight, busy with the Orcs in front of her. She had only glimpsed a dark shadow flying against the wall out of the corner of her eye and then… Duke had flown down upon the Orc in front of her that was already seriously wounded, and she had turned toward the other Fellows. Just in time to hear that kind of laughter. Just in time to see Frodo stabbed by that spear. In that moment, she had felt as if an Orc had driven its claws in her flesh and ripped her heart out of her chest, as if an incandescent sword had pierced her. She thought she had screamed his name at the top of her lungs, but she wasn't sure…The only thing Victoria remembered clearly was Frodo's face deformed by an immense pain and those blue eyes full of suffering. She remembered the way he had  lifelessly dropped on the floor. Her eyes had watched many people die and seen many corpses, but in that moment she felt as if the whole mountain had crumbled over her.    

She never knew exactly what had made her react so. Maybe it had been because of Draco and the other Twenty-Nine Slytherins, because of what had happened to them – or maybe not. However, something went off inside of her in that moment. Her silvery aura, faint as the moonlight, increased, grew stronger,  became a silver flame. Her eyes became green again, but she was seeing red, she was burning.

The troll had its back turned on her, but, even if she couldn't see him, she knew that it and the other monsters were rejoicing. Victoria growled: there's no other way to describe the sound that came from her throat, through the teeth bared like snake fangs. She raised her wand and aimed at the giants's back, _Verbero_!  

A yellow lightning hit it and wrapped itself around its gray body. The troll stood, shrieking with pain, waving its arms trying to seize the invisible enemy that was striking it. 

The battle started again, wilder than ever. As soon as the spell was broken, Merry and Pippin jumped on the beast's shoulders with drawn swords. This time, the giant knew well where its attackers were: it tried to shake them off, but was hit by a green ray of light. Horrified, he felt its own heartbeat slowing down and reacted by shaking brusquely. Merry was thrown on the floor, but the giant did not have time to hurt him. The troll felt the blade of a sword ripping its stomach.

A shout echoed above the other sounds.  It was different from the battle cries that filled the busty air: it was a name. Torey! Boromir shouted when he saw her raising her arm again, gathering her strength. Too late, the strike was off. The blade sank in the flesh of the monster's thigh.

The girl drew back as fast as she had come. The monster launched at her, but its arm suddenly caught fire. Right in that moment, Pippin managed to get up enough to run his sword through its head, down to the handle. The Hobbit made it open its mouth and Legolas shot an arrow that pierced its palate. The troll let out a sort of bellow, stumbled and fell on the ground, dead.

The battle was over, but there was no joy as their eyes fell on the fallen Ring Bearer.

Aragorn slowly approached him and turned him on his side. Suddenly, the "corpse" coughed and took a deep breath. He's alive! Sam cried out, kneeling down beside him.

I'm all right… Frodo reassured him. I'm not hurt…

You should be dead… Aragorn murmured, astonished and incredulous. That spear would have skewered a wild boar!   

I think there is more to this Hobbit than meets the eye, Gandalf said, relief clear in his eyes.

Frodo met his gaze and lifted aside the hem of his shirt, shoving the bright chain mail.

Mithril… Gimli murmured, impressed. You are full of surprises, master Baggins!

Victoria Cross approached the Hobbit wordlessly. When he raised his head, she slapped him so hard that they all heard a sharp smack, like a gunshot. Then she fell to her knees and hugged him so tightly that she knocked the air out of his lungs, as if she had been afraid that he could disappear. Don't you dare scare me like that again! Victoria cried, burying her head against his shoulder.   

Frodo, caught off guard, didn't even have the time to hug her back. They had to leave that place as fast as they could. They could already hear the shrieks of the other approaching Orcs.

To the bridge of Khazad-Dum! Gandalf said.

They threw themselves out of the room and started running in the high-columned hall. The Orcs were everywhere, behind their backs and over their heads. They jumped out from crack in the floor like Hellish demons, climbed down the pillars like spiders, shrieking with all their might…The Fellowship was suddenly surrounded by that black, compact mass, spiked with spears, axes, swords and sharp shields. The ten companions got ready to sell their lives dearly, but suddenly the Orcs fell silent and in the dark echoed a terrible roar. A light appeared in the far archway at the other end of the hall.

Usually, the light is associated with Good, but Victoria had the feeling that this time it would be other way around. The Orcs looked at each other, unsure. The howl was repeated, this time more angrily. Crying with fear, the other fiends ran away terrorized, climbing on columns and throwing themselves into the crack from which they had sprung.

"Bad sign. **_Very_** bad sign," the girl thought gripping her sword and her wand. She raised her gaze toward the ceiling. Duke wanted to fly away as well, but the affection he bore to his mistress held him in place.

What is this new devilry? Boromir asked.

Gandalf didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes, concentrating deeply, as if he had been trying to hear a soft, far voice. A Balrog, he said at last. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. RUN!    

The race began again, more troubled and desperate than before.

Boromir ran through a door and Victoria followed him, but she stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she had passed through it. As he glanced backwards to check that his daughter and the little ones had not fallen back, the warrior of Minas Tirith hadn't realized that the rest of the stairs was on the left and now was teetering on the edge of a dark abyss, about to fall. An icy terror crept over the girl, paralyzing her. She was completely blocked, her mind was screaming, part for the memories, part to push her to act, but it was all vain, it was as if her nerves had been cut, she couldn't move… A breath of air grazed her as Legolas passed her by running. The Elf grabbed the Man around the waist and pulled him back. They both fell on the ground, safe and sound. In a second, they were on their feet again, ready to run down the stairs. Victoria was right behind them and she was feeling bad. She hated herself for not having been able to move, she had almost stood back watching as someone – not a simple someone, her own father – fell in the shadow **_again_**. She had sworn that she would have not let it happen again and then she had allowed her memory to take over her. She raised her gaze on Boromir, who was running in front of her. "Never again. Never again."  

There were a couple of things she had to do. Apologize to Boromir. Thank Legolas. But first of all, they had to get out. All of them. All in a whole. She kept on running down the steps until Boromir stopped everybody. The road was interrupted, part of the staircase in front of them had collapsed. Legolas turned around, launched Victoria over his shoulder and before the girl could fully realize what had happen, she found herself back to her feet on the other side of the gap. 

Gandalf! Legolas called, holding out a hand toward the wizard, who jumped with unexpected agility.

Spears and arrows started raining down from above. The Elf turned around, slinging on his bow, and his arrow pierced the Orc that fell in the abyss. In the same moment, Boromir landed on the other side of the gap, carrying Merry and Pippin in his arms. You okay? Victoria said, coming near them, but they had no time to answer her. Part of the stairs crumbled loudly, driving them further apart. Aragorn threw Sam, who was caught by Boromir, over the crack and turned around to do the same with Gimli, who stopped him with an imperious wave, Nobody tosses a Dwarf!

He took a short run and jumped, landing exactly on the edge of the step. He lost his footing and his balance, but Legolas turned around and grabbed his beard.

Not the beard! The Dwarf complained as the Elf dragged him to safety.

On the other side of the gap there were only Frodo and Aragorn, but before they could jump, the stairs started crumbling under their feet. The Ranger barely had time to push the Ring Bearer back when it crumpled up under his feet. He almost fell, but he managed to pull himself up on the stair again. The distance that separated them from the others was now impossible to cross. The floor and the walls shook under the weight and the strength of the approaching Balrog. Some big rocks fell from the ceiling right on the ten companions. It was just a miracle if no one was hurt, but one of those rocks shattered the stair behind Aragorn and Frodo, cutting off a retreat that – truth to be told – would have been impossible anyway. The column that held the island where they stood gave in and the rock started waving like a treetop shaken by the wind. Aragorn pulled the Hobbit near. On the other side of the gap, Victoria held her breath but refused to close her eyes. The two men tried to balance themselves, but it was very hard. Frodo was about to lose his balance but managed to straighten himself at the last second.

They stood still, unmoving, for a couple of seconds. Lean forward, Aragorn suggested to him as he did so, bending toward the rest of the staircase. At the last moment, Frodo and Aragorn jumped and were caught by Boromir and Legolas. For the whole time, the Halfling hadn't kept his eyes away from the young witch standing behind Boromir. The girl was clutching her wand, ready to catch them with a spell if Aragorn's plan hadn't worked. They started running down again as behind their backs the staircase fell down with a crash. They passed into a corridor full of fire and flames, Gandalf was leading them.

Over the bridge, fly! he shouted to exceed the roars of the beast, showing them the way and following after gazing for long seconds into the flames and into the eyes of the monster that had come from them. They passed through archways and doors and finally the bridge appeared in front of them.

Victoria stopped dead in her tracks, unable to take a step. When Boromir realized this, he made as to go back to get her, but Aragorn motioned to him not to stop. He would have taken care of her.

Barely slowing down, the Ranger launched the girl over his shoulder and carried her to the other side. Victoria didn't close her eyes, so she found herself gazing down the black pit. She shook from head to toe and she would have probably fainted if it hadn't been for the reassuring cry of her hawk that was flying over them. As soon as they were safe, Aragorn put her down and she dropped against the rocky wall, unable to stand. She was panting and shaking all over. Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get back some self-control. When she opened them again, the others were on the stairs that led outside and were staring at the bridge.

"Haven't we all crossed it?" she wondered and turned to look at it.

Gandalf the Gray stood in the middle of the arch, firmly decide to face the enemy. You cannot pass!

Gandalf! Frodo shouted.

Victoria didn't even have the strength to do so. She grasped the cross she wore around her neck, keeping her gaze fixed on the wizard. "No stupid things…Gandalf don't do anything stupid…Everything but that…For God's sake, don't do anything stupid and go away **_immediately_**…Oh, pleasepleaseplease…"

I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Arnor! the wizard said in front of the blazing demon, that stood high and menacingly. Dark fire shall not avail you, Flame of Udun!

The flaming blade of the Balrog clashed against Gandalf's staff that shone with a white light. Sparks and high flames flew and the monster stepped back, maybe surprised by his resistance.

Again the voice of the Istari was heard: Go back into shadow! The Balrog stepped on the bridge, whirling his whip of flame. Gandalf raised his staff between his hands. YOU SHALL NOT PASS! he shouted, slamming the staff against the rock forcefully. The Balrog took another step and the bridge collapsed under it, breaking exactly where it had been hit by the wizard's staff. 

The beast fell. Gandalf turned around to come up with the others, but with a sudden darting the monster's whip wrapped around his ankle, pulling him down. He barely managed to grasp the edge of the bridge.

GANDALF! Frodo shouted as he threw himself forward, but Boromir held him back.   

The wizard tried to climb up again, but in vain. His eyes met the Ring Bearer's. Fly, you fools! The Istari lost his grip, falling in the dark.

Frodo's desperate scream filled the air. NOOOO! The Hobbit fought against the warrior, who was holding him back, but uselessly. The Man lifted him up bodily, taking him up in his arms. He was still screaming when Boromir carried him outside.

The Man turned to the last two companions. Torey! Aragorn! he shouted, trying to awake them.

Gearing his voice, Aragorn pulled himself together. He seized the girl by the arm and ran upstairs, dragging her. She looked like a rag doll. It was just a miracle that they weren't hit by the arrows of the Orcs.

They came out from Moria in the bitter sunlight and collapsed on the rocks. 

Victoria could barely breathe and move. She felt as though she had been walking underwater, even the things around looked like they were immersed in the water…But maybe it was just her tears that didn't let her see. The scene she had just witnessed, so similar to Draco's death…past and present mixed, memories threatened to overpower her again.

"No," she thought firmly. "I can't break again. They need me, I must not allow it…" She managed to drive back those images. She raised her face, narrowing her eyes and trying to focus on the people around her. She got to her feet, stumbling a little and hating herself because of it.

They all needed comfort, the blow had been heavy…but to one of them, it had been even heavier. She looked for Frodo with her eyes and found him beyond some rocks, far away from the others…There he stood, staring at the infinite horizon. Completely lost.     

Victoria slowly approached him, her movements still unsure, and stopped a couple of steps away from him. She whispered his name, Frodo…

Hearing his own name, the Hobbit tried to choke down his tears and turned to drive away the person who had called him. He thought that nobody could understand his pain, he didn't want to hear empty words of comfort that nobody believed. But when he turned around and looked in those eyes full of tears and sorrow, of a new pain and an old one, that showed a wound that had never closed…then he understood that he was wrong. There was somebody who understood perfectly his own pain, for she had felt one similar – maybe even greater – herself. He stumbled toward her and next moment he was in her arms, held in a desperate and sorrowful embrace. He held her tightly, clinging to her and hiding his face against her neck. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He just felt a terrible ache in his heart and Victoria's body against his own. Pain and Victoria. The only two things that were real. Just his pain. And Victoria, who understood him perfectly and now held him without speaking, because she knew that any word would have been worse than useless.  

For how long they embraced, they couldn't tell. Maybe a few seconds, maybe many hours…Pain knows no time. It was Aragorn's voice calling Frodo's name that brought them back to Earth, if we may say so. Though unwillingly, the Hobbit and the witch let go of each other but didn't go too far. They caught up with the others, walking side by side slowly.

They had to keep on going. 

As they came near, Victoria studied the others' faces. Sam, Merry and Pippin were broken, Gimli looked upset as well but she wasn't sure if he would have accepted the comfort she meant to offer him. Legolas looked lost and confused, he couldn't understand death. Somebody ought to explain him a thing or two, before he learned to know it in the hard way. Aragorn and Boromir hid their feelings very well, but she was sure that their souls were bleeding too.

"And how could it be otherwise?"

The three warriors could fool the Hobbits and the Elf and maybe even themselves, but not Victoria, not who had already been through that. Memories pressed against the barriers behind which she had locked them, fighting to surface, but she couldn't allow it. "I can't break down now that they need me!"

Watching their faces marked with tears and pain, she decided to take care of them.  

Torey… Boromir called her, approaching her and laying his hands on her shoulders. The question his voice couldn't express was clear in his eyes.

I'm fine, _édnie_**3**… she reassured him in a low voice. I'm still on my own two feet… She looked for his eyes and held them. I'm fine,

Boromir knew she was lying, but he didn't get angry because he also knew that she was lying essentially to herself…just like all of them were, after all. He quickly hugged her, hoping that that brief contact would give her some comfort. Unfortunately, right in that moment there was nothing else he could do for her.  

Victoria clung to him, allowing herself for those brief seconds to be comforted and not to comfort. They parted. Their embrace had lasted only a handful of seconds, but it had been more than enough to give her back her strength.  

They started walking toward the woods of Lothlorien with Duke flying high above them.

1_Boja faus_: Piedmontese dialect, untranslatable. That's an interjection that can express anger, disappointment, frustration, astonishment or, like in this case, wonder and awe. 

2 Mole Antonelliana: You remember the author's note at the beginning of chapter IX, don't you?

    For all the people who don't remember: it's a kind of tower, symbol of Turin.  

3 _édnie_: "dad, daddy" in Gondor's local speech. 


	15. Chapter XV: Arrival in Lothlorien

Kerla: No problem. Since I'm not an Elf-fan, I don't know much about them, so mistakes are bound to pop up here and there. Thank you for the correction.

Alassea2: I haven't noticed that Sues tend to slap Frodo…Oh, well, next time I'll have Victoria punch him. Just kidding… Thank you very much for your compliments about the last chapter, I hope you'll enjoy the Fellow's break in Lothlorien.

Empress Guinevere Sparrow: I'm glad you like it and I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter…

Olwyen: I can't really say who she'll follow – though I've always believe it was quite obvious… ; ) Unfortunately, it will take them so time for them to work on their relationship, since I don't really believe in "during-the-quest" romances. I hope you'll have the patience to wait until then and that you won't be too bored.

And now…

CHAPTER XV: ARRIVAL IN LOTHLORIEN

Author's note: this chapter was born from a mistake. Let me explain: I don't own the DVD nor the video extended edition of "The Fellowship of the Ring," just the theater version. In a fanfiction I read there was mentioned the dialogue-argument between Aragorn and Boromir, but I misunderstood everything and started planning the chapter thinking that said dialogue had taken place in Lothlorien. When I discovered that it wasn't so – thanks to my dear friend Ale – it was too late: I couldn't find a way to change the scene anymore. That's why here it doesn't coincide with the movie anymore.

They kept on walking for the whole morning without a break, burdened with pain and weariness. Fortunately, the fresh air, the sky and the sun had given them some new confidence.

Victoria passed a big part of the journey by Frodo's side but, from time to time, silent and quick as a ghost, she moved along the line, walking now by one's side, now by the other's, laying a hand on a shoulder, squeezing a hand, exchanging a few low words. Very few, but they felt good.

After that, she came back by Frodo's side and stayed with him until she noticed another sign, another mute cry for help. Then she lightly laid a hand on his shoulders and he raised his face to look at her in the eyes. Every time the same silent conversation. They didn't need to talk. With a rapid eye movement, Victoria showed him who needed her and then her eyes turned back to meet Frodo's blue ones. "May I?"

Frodo looked at her and nodded. "Go."

Then he watched her leave and approach another member of the Fellowship. Until she was back by his side, his eyes never left her. Maybe he feared that, if he had let her out of his sight for a second, she would have disappeared in the thin air. He wasn't jealous of the others: he knew that they needed her as much as he did and maybe even more, but…Every time she walked away, even if for a short distance, he missed her. Sam was trying to stand by him, but Victoria was the one that he needed. Only her. Frodo didn't want to burden the others with his pain since they were suffering as well. Sure, she was suffering too, but differently. She hadn't really had much time to get to know Gandalf and the thought that he might have been able to send her back home – united with his vague resemblance with the Headmaster of her school – had always kept her away from him.

An old wound was bleeding, but Victoria ignored it. She must take care of the others. No one could do that better than her. Because, you see, she **_understood_**. She **_knew_**.

They crossed a shallow, crystalline river and entered the legendary Golden Wood. Mistaking it for a common wood would have been impossible: a sublime light brightened every branch, every single blade of grass, the leaves fell on the ground almost dancing, the very air they breathed had something incredible. Victoria and the Hobbits looked around amazed: that place was absolutely enchanting and indescribable.

Stay close, young Hobbits…and you, be very careful, Gimli warned them. They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an elf-witch of terrible power. All those who look upon her fall under her spell… Frodo suddenly turned his head around: he thought he had heard his own name in the air. …and are never seen again. 

The Halfling swallowed hard, worried. He tried to dismiss that absurd thought, but then he felt it again. There wasn't any doubt left: a voice, a female voice had called his name and it couldn't be Vivi who wanted to pull a prank on him, no, it was impossible. That wasn't her voice and after Gandalf's death, even Merry and Pippin had lost their will to joke. He heard it again. "Your coming to us is as the footsteps of doom," it was whispering. "You bring great evil here, Ringbearer."

In his mind flashed for a moment the imagine of two blue eyes, then he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He raised his gaze and found himself staring into Victoria's violet eyes, Sam's anxious voice ringing in his ears, Mister Frodo? 

You okay? Victoria whispered worriedly.

Unable to speak, Frodo only nodded and Victoria straightened herself up, leaving her hand on his shoulder. She had a strange face, as if she didn't believe him.

Victoria looked around. She almost had the feeling that somebody was trying to slip into her mind…She took a deep breath, remembering the few lessons of Defense Against the Dark Arts she had attended in that year. Few, but quite important for they taught you how to fight Legilimens**1** and the Imperius Curse.

She concentrated deeply, shielding her thoughts and her memories, trying to make them slippery and elusive. After long seconds, she knew she had won, even if she felt exhausted. She felt like she had been fighting for ages, but just a few moments had passed. At first she had thought that it was the Ring, but it wasn't so: essence and methods were different, she could feel that.

Gimli was boasting as usual. Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily! I have the eyes of an hawk and the ears of a fox! He stopped suddenly, finding himself face-to-face with an Elvish arrow. Many blonde Elves clad in gray appeared around them, aiming their arrows at them.

Gimli, it's better if you get your sight checked the next time we see Lord Elrond, Victoria growled through her clenched teeth, clutching her wand. "Damn it! Right what we need, now that I'm weak from the fight against that…that thing. But the Elves weren't on our side?"

A blonde, tall and martial Elf approached, his face unreadable. The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark. 

Aragorn took half a step forward, outlining a quick bow. He murmured a few words in Elvish, but the other's face remained impassive.

Aragorn! Gimli said. These woods are perilous! We should go back! Behind him, Victoria kicked his shin. The Dwarf didn't feel confident enough to turn his back on an Elvish arrow, so he had to be satisfied with glaring at her over his shoulder.

Legolas, who had followed the exchange, rolled his eyes. "Ladies and gentlemen, after a long truce we declare that hostilities are officially re-opened," he thought.

Frodo let out a sigh as the two started a glaring contest, which was interrupted by the newcomer's voice: You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back, He turned to the Ring Bearer. Come. She is waiting. 

It didn't take much time for Victoria to link the witch from Gimli's legend and the attempted intrusion in her head with the Lady the blonde Elf had mentioned. Playing dumb, she came near Legolas, Tell me, Radar, do you know who our hostess is? 

The Elf nodded. She is Galadriel, the great queen. By the way, when we will be admitted to her and her husband Celeborn's presence, I suggest you to mind your poisonous tongue, he added, watching her sternly.

The girl snorted and rolled her eyes. Okay, okay, I understood the message. She wasn't keen on meeting her. Not at all. She found some comfort in the thought that their journey would have lasted many hours.

They reached Calas Galadhon, in the very heart of Lothlorien, at dusk. If the caves of Moria had surprised them, the Elvish capital was a real shock. The trees were huge and so tall that they looked like they could reach the sky. Surely, they must have been thousands of years old. The sunrays hardly made their way through the thick leafage, creating works of lights and shadows almost magical.

Always following Haldir, the Captain of the March Wardens who had "greeted" them, they reached an enormous tree. Around its trunk, there was wrapped a spiral stair. Victoria raised her head upward and felt her head spinning. She stumbled, but a firm hand quickly supported her. She turned around and met Boromir's eyes. The young girl smiled at him gratefully, squeezing his hand for a brief moment. They had been apart for the whole travel, but she hadn't forgotten their quick embrace outside Moria.

Are you all right, _Merilìs_? he asked her.

Yes, _édnie_, don't you worry. I was just a little dizzy. She turned to look at the staircase. I guess I have to, eh? 

Boromir nodded: I fear there's no other way, 

The witch sighed and adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. Okay, then. 

Hesitantly, she began climbing the stairs behind the others, swearing under her breath.

_Boja__ d'na miseria schifa! __Ai mnieisa n'accident_ on all the Elves of Middle Earth, on their damned craze for heights and on their Goddamned stairs! [Trans: "Damn it! A plague…]

For the Valar's sake, Victoria! Aragorn cried out. You clearly don't know what respect is! You are talking about the Elves, they are… 

Six words, Billy Yank, just six words: shut up and keep on going! she replied

Victoria! Legolas spoke up, scandalized by her behavior.

Oh, don't you "Victoria" me, Radar! Don't you know, oh "wise" Elves, the saying "live and let swear"? 

Merry turned to look at her, folding his arms, Are you sure that this saying is correct? 

No, but I don't give a damn. 

Aragorn cut them short brusquely. Let us go. It's not polite to let the Lord and the Lady of Lothlorien wait. 

If they lived at the ground floor, we would have already been there! Victoria added acidly.

Somebody laid a hand on her shoulder. That's enough, Torey, Boromir told her gently.

The girl let out a sigh and unconsciously raised a hand to cover her throat. Sorry, I know I'm unbearable, but…First we spend four days between darkness and stairs, then the battle and the bridge and what happened to Gandalf and the attempt of intrusion in my head and now this and they won't even let me swear… she trailed off, shaking her head.

And, what is more,… Boromir added, …you spent a good part of the journey trying to reassure us. He laid a hand on her cheek. You are very brave, Little Soldier, 

Victoria smiled faintly, Thank you, 

He ruffled her hair. Hold on, _Merilìs_. We are almost there. 

The resumed their climbing. Five minutes later, Victoria was swearing again, but it was just out of habit.

Finally, they found themselves facing a shorter staircase. Suddenly, a light as bright as a star lit its top and slowly, surrounded by that shining light, the Lord and the Lady of Lothlorien advanced.

The nine surviving Fellows stared at them, unable to move as if they were in a dream. Aragorn bowed his head, the Hobbits and the Dwarf were watching the two Elves almost spellbound, just like Boromir. The only one impassive to all that beauty was Victoria. She stood by Boromir, arms folded against her chest and expressionless face. Closed, barred, ready to face anything: just like when she was back in Hogwarts. She was standing on the defensive. As safe as she had felt when she had set foot in that enchanted wood, so deeply her equilibrium had been compromised by the "attempted housebreaking"…or rather **_mind_**-breaking. She didn't feel at ease with those Elves. There was something strange about them she couldn't quite put her finger on, especially with the Elf-woman…She was something between Divination teacher Sybil Trelawney (but more gloomy and less ridiculous) and the Transfiguration teacher Minerva McGonagall, with a sharp prevalence of the latter. And Victoria and Professor McGonagall had **_never_** got along. The young witch was impassive, but deep down she felt nervous and dirty. She would have gladly smoked a cigarette, but it wouldn't have been polite. "…and then Billy Yank would blow a gasket if I did."

Lord Celeborn's eyes ran along the line of the travelers slowly, then the lord of Lothlorien spoke, Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. 

Aragorn, to whom the question was directed, did not answer, barely raising his gaze.

It was the Elf-woman who answered, He has fallen into shadow, 

If Victoria had needed it, that would have been the final proof that she hadn't been wrong about their hostess.

Galadriel's eyes watched the remaining members of the Fellowship of the Ring, lingering one moment too much on the young witch, which made her raise her guard even more. The quest stands upon the edge of a knife, stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. The Elf's eyes fell on Boromir, who felt like he was freezing. He couldn't hold her gaze and hung his head.

His daughter laid a comforting hand on his arm and then cast a death glare to the Lady.

The two women's eyes met. Victoria's sent forth sparks, while Galadriel's still held that sharp and piercing gaze. She was still looking for an access to the young witch's thoughts, but the latter tried not to let her in.

Finally, the Elf-woman turned to look at somebody else. Samwise Gamgee the gardener, to be more specific. Yet hope remains while the company is true. She raised her eyes toward the sky and then looked at them again. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now, and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace. 

A servant appeared to walk the guests where they could clean themselves and rest. Victoria fell back purposely. She hadn't liked the way that Elf-woman had looked at the Ring Bearer near the end of her speech. She hadn't liked it **_at all_**. She was the last to exit, turning back to throw a warning look to the Lady of the Golden Wood. Said Lady didn't need to use her powers to understand the girl's message, "Be careful what you do. And stay away from them."

As soon as she got out of the Lords' sights, a cold shudder shook Victoria from head to toe. Brrr… 

Is there something wrong? Boromir asked her immediately.

Before answering, Victoria lit up a cigarette. No. Everything's fine. 

To their great relief, they had had the opportunity to bathe and change their clothes and now they were getting ready to sleep, camped under on of the huge trees. In the air spread sad, almost angelic voices.

Legolas raised his head, listening carefully. A lament for Gandalf… he murmured.

What do they say about him? Merry asked in a low voice.

The Elf turned on him his blue eyes full of sadness. I have not the heart to tell you…For me grief is still too near. 

Frodo bit down on his lip, feeling a weight on his chest, where his heart was. Victoria wasn't with them. He wondered if she could hear those voices and how she felt in that moment.

Victoria sat huddled in a tub full of water that was starting to cool down, her wet hair sticking to her head. A faint tremble shook her body, it wasn't because of the cold. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks and fell in the water around her. She had held them back for the whole day but now she could finally get them off her chest for a while. She didn't want to cry in front of the others, not because she wanted to act tough, but because she wouldn't have been able to see their sorrow if she cried. They needed someone to comfort them, she did not. She had learned to deal with her pain on her own. The song went on, but her tears started falling less and less abundantly until they stopped altogether. With a sigh, she got out from the now cold water and started adjusting herself mechanically. They must not see that she had cried.

Take some rest, Aragorn said as he approached the warrior of Minas Tirith, who sat on the root of a tree, far away from the others. These borders are well protected. 

I will find no rest here, he answered dejectedly. Aragorn turned to look at him. I heard a voice inside my head…She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor… He raised his gaze on Isildur heir, who stood still, and lowered it again. She said to me "even now, there is hope left"… He shook his head. …But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope. Aragorn didn't say a word and sat down beside him. My father is a noble man, Boromir said proudly, turning to look at him. But his rule is failing, and now our... He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. …Our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right, and I would do it, I would see the glory of Gondor restored. He turned to the other Man for a moment, then his eyes lost their focus, as if he had been gazing at something very far away. Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze? It was hard to discern the different emotions mixed in Boromir's voice. Pride. Love for his country. Nostalgia. And buried under those, a vague worry. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets? 

This time Aragorn couldn't avoid answering. I have seen the White City, long ago. 

Boromir looked at him in the eyes and spoke in a firm voice. One day, our paths will lead us there, and the tower guard shall take up the call, "the lords of Gondor have returned!" Once again, Aragorn was silent. Boromir spoke up again. You don't look too eager to reach it…And yet, soon we'll be there. 

Aragorn raised his head slowly, Who said that we will pass through Minas Tirith? His voice was ice cold.

Well, that' the only road left if we want to continue…not to say the safest. From there we can regroup. Strike out from Mordor from a place of strength. 

Aragorn stood up. There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us. 

A dark cloud fell on the other warrior's face. You were quick enough to trust the elves! Have you so little faith in your people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be among Men. But you will not see that. He said the last sentence looking him in the eyes, almost accusingly. Aragorn threw him a cold glance and moved to leave, but Boromir sprang to his feet and didn't allow him to walk away, catching him by the arm and forcing him to turn around, to face him. You are afraid! All your life you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are! 

Aragorn pulled himself free form his grip and walked away. Suddenly he turned around, staring at the warrior of Minas Tirith with a face of stone. I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of **_your_** city. 

Before Boromir could answer that, he walked back to the camp.

Is everything all right?Legolas asked him, seeing so troubled.

Not exactly…Aragorn answered.

Right in that moment, Merry raised his gaze for he had heard approaching footsteps coming from a nearby path. Hey, Vicky. That was about time… 

We had started thinking that you had melted… Pippin said, the ghost of a smile upon his lips for the first time in many hours.

Victoria smiled back at him, sitting on the ground. Maybe I didn't melt, but I'm quite sure I lost at least ten kilos. 

How you exaggerate, Legolas remarked.

The girl shook her shoulders and started brushing her slightly damp hair, enjoying the simple pleasure of that act. It had been a long time since she had last let her hair down. She hated tying it up, but when it had become too dirty she had resigned to gather it in a ponytail or in a braid.

Frodo watched her. Now that they were all together, he felt a little bit better, a little bit safer.

Victoria couldn't sleep. Even if that day had exhausted her, she couldn't fall asleep. Maybe she feared that Galadriel could slip into her mind as she slept or maybe it was the fear of the dreams she could have had that kept her awake. However, she was lying there in the Wood, watchful and on edge just like when they were still in Moria. She stared at the great tent under which they rested, listening to the other's breathing. Suddenly, another sound attracted her attention: a rustling of cloth against cloth, faint footsteps…somebody else was awake. Victoria turned just in time to see Frodo slipping out of the tent and walking away, bathed in the moonlight. She sighed and turned her back to him. Even if she didn't really trust their hostess, she knew that he was safe. She decided that it was time to leave him alone for a while.

The young witch kept tossing and turning for more than an hour, unable to sleep. Then she decided to get up and have some water, but, when she slipped out of the tent to get to their packs, she discovered that Frodo hadn't wandered off as far as she had thought. In fact, he was sitting on the root of a tree about ten meters away from the camp. She tried to take up a flask and drink as silently as she could, but he heard her nonetheless.

Oh…it's you. he murmured, turning around to look at her.

When she saw his haunted face, Victoria threw her good purposes out of the window. It was better if she had a small talk with him. She had to, for she knew very well the expression on his face. She had seen it a lot in her own mirror during the last two years.

You can't sleep as well…can you? she asked, dropping down beside him.

Please, Victoria….let me be he replied, shaking his head. You didn't know him…You don't… 

I don't understand? Think about that, Frodo. She looked straight ahead, her eyes unfocused. I do understand perfectly. You feel a weight in your chest right where your heart is, don't you? And a great cold inside, as if your soul was trapped in a frozen lake…And you keep on wondering why it happened and if you could have done something to save him, to avoid all of this. The more you think about it, the more you feel like you were dying. She turned to him. Tell me, am I right or no? 

Forgive me. I had forgot that… he didn't have the strength to complete his sentence.

Lucky you. I never forget it, she replied dryly, laying down on the grass-covered ground.

Frodo hesitated for a moment, then he lay down beside her, silently staring at the sky. All of this would have never happened if it hadn't been for the Ring… He whispered suddenly, then turned to her. Gandalf said that I was meant to have it. Do you think that…that he was meant to…to… 

Victoria hesitated, I don't know, Frodo. I don't believe in destiny, but…undeniably some things are out of our control. Gandalf told me how Bilbo found the Ring and…well, even someone like me has to admit that if it was just an **_accident_**, than it was really a weird one. 

The Hobbit was silent for some moments. Vivi…Is it true that time heals every wound? 

She desperately wanted to tell him yes…But Frodo wasn't like the other Hobbits. He was different. A lie would have been useless. It can heal some wounds, Frodo…But the loss of a friend is a wound that heals difficultly… She lowered her gaze. …and even when it happens, it always leaves a scar. Her sleeves had slipped up a little, uncovering the tattoo and the scar.

Frodo gently took her left arm between his hands, grazing the dragon with his fingertips. A bigger, darker hand closed around his own. His eyes traveled up the arm to the shoulder and the face, until they met Victoria's own. In my country there's a saying: "What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger." She lowered her gaze, not letting go of his hand. I wanted to help you, but maybe I'm not the right person… 

The Hobbit clung to her, not allowing her to get up and leave. You are. You…you understand what I feel now. That's enough to me. 

Frodo… 

Sssh, he placed a finger on her lips. You don't have to say anything. He leaned against her and after a few seconds she hugged him back. She held him tightly, trying to chase away the cold of death that had fallen on his soul. She didn't have to make a great effort to remember how it had been when she had lost Draco and Mark and Adrian. She wondered if the Elves had sung that lament not only for Gandalf, who couldn't hear it anymore, but also for his remaining friends, so the music would have eased their suffering a little. She knew very well that in that kind of situation, music could be a balm for one's soul. Almost without realizing it, she had started humming a tune from her world, a song she had listened to so often when she was sad that she had almost consumed the record.

_I am a poor wayfaring stranger  
Traveling through this world of woe  
But there's no sickness, toil or danger  
In that bright land to which I go  
  
Well I'm going there  
To meet my mother  
Said she'd meet me when I come  
I'm only going over Jordan  
I'm only going over home  
  
I know dark clouds  
Will gather 'round me  
I know my way  
Will be rough and steep  
But beautiful fields lie just before me  
Where God's redeemed  
Their vigils keep  
  
Well I'm going there  
To meet my loved ones  
Gone on before me, one by one  
I'm only going over Jordan  
I'm only going over home  
  
I'll soon be free of earthy trials  
My body rest in the old church yard  
I'll drop this cross of self-denial  
And I'll go singing home to God  
  
Well I'm going there  
To meet my Savior  
Dwell with Him and never roam  
I'm only going over Jordan  
I'm only going over home_ **2**__

The last syllable faded in the air.

That's a pretty song, Frodo said.

Victoria startled, she had been so caught up in the melody and in the lyrics that she almost forgotten where she was.

Yeah…It's a good song. She briefly caressed his cheek and then stood up slowly. I'll go to sleep…are you coming, too? 

In a minute, he replied. I think I'll stay here for a while. 

Victoria nodded quietly. Okay, 

She went back inside and lay down under her blanket. Half an hour later, she vaguely heard him coming back, but then she fell asleep and she knew no more.

Frodo lay down as well and fell asleep watching her.

1) A Legilimens is a kind of wizard/witch who can magically intrude and influence the mind of another human being. The only way to fight this is Occlumancy. Legilimens and Occlumancy belong to J.K. Rowling.

2) Natalie Merchant, "Poor wayfaring stranger" from "The House carpenter's daughter." I just wish to add that I've never heard the song, I just like the lyrics, so, since I've heard that Natalie Merchant is a rock singer, imagine Victoria singing it in a slower rhythm.


	16. Chapter XVI: Confrontations Part One

Alassea2: I don't think they would be in the mood for a make-out session...Rolls her eyes Great observation, by the way. I'm glad you liked that and I hope you'll enjoy the next Lothlorien chapters.

Summer holiday are over – well, almost… but it doesn't count anyway – so probably I'll update more regularly.

CHAPTER XVI: CONFRONTATIONS – PART ONE

When Victoria woke up, she immediately realized that her father wasn't there. Outside, the others were eating breakfast.

Did you see my…Johnny Reb? 

Aye, he went for a walk, Merry told her.

I hope it'll help him… Pippin spoke up. He looked tired this morning. I don't think he slept well. 

Ah, Victoria said, pursing her lips until they became barely more than a thin line.

Merry elbowed his cousin. Ouch! What did I say? 

Victoria sat down by them, pouring herself some tea. "I bet that the _masca_ paid a call on him last night. After all, he had said that he wouldn't have found any rest here…" [_masca_ = "witch" in Piedmontese dialect. ]

Right in that moment, Gimli started to sing the praises of Lady Galadriel. …I hope we'll see her again before leaving this wood. 

I hope we won't, Victoria remarked dryly, taking another sip of her tea.

Gimli frowned. Excuse me, what did you say exactly? 

I said I dearly hope that I won't have anything to do with her. She has on me the very same effect that Professor McGonagall had: the less I see her, the better I am! 

Moderate your language! Aragorn reproached her. Remember that we're in her kingdom! 

And that's a real pity, 'cause this would be a beautiful place if she wasn't here, annoying everybody. And I'm saying it out loud, I don't care if she hears me! 

Mind what you're saying! Gimli warned her. You must thank your God that you are a girl, or I would have given you a lesson! 

Oh, I'm soo scared! You didn't think so high about her yesterday… 

That… the Dwarf roared. …happened because I had yet to gaze at the grace and the beauty of the Lady! 

Oh, that's a good criterion to judge people! Congratulations! If you want to know, I think that your "gracious Lady" is a slippery Gryffindor, that's my opinion! 

You'll get yourself kicked out if you keep on saying so, girl! Aragorn spoke up.

So much the better! I don't like being less than 10 km away from miss Wiseacre! she replied.

Enough, Victoria! That's the limit! Legolas shouted. You should respect more the Lady Galadriel! 

I'll respect her when she'll respect me and my mind! Her face darkened. I don't like those who speak in your head. The last time it happened, they were trying to convince me to throw myself down my own house's roof, excuse me if I'm a little bit wary! 

Your diffidence is offensive and unjustified. You are talking about the wisest of the Elves! Legolas replied.

If she was wise, she'd know that it's not a good idea go messing around with other people's mind, especially mine! I'm already quite messed up on my own without her coming to bring damage, thank you very much! 

She must have had her reasons to… Legolas started, but he never had the chance to finish his sentence.

I don't give a damn! I've my reasons not to want an Elf fumbling in my mind too! 

Afraid that she might discover something, aren't you? Gimli implied poisonously. What do you fear she might find out? 

Mind your own business, _taca__ borniu c'a sertu dalla Fiat_! she replied, furiously. I've nothing to hide, but I don't want to risk her awakening bad memories. It's already hard enough keeping them at bay on my own 

Galadriel does know what she's doing, Aragorn tried to shoot her.

Oh, really? One wouldn't think so… 

Victoria, you're talking about one of the oldest Elves! She's more than five thousand years old! Legolas cried out.

I'll ask her which lines-proof face cream she uses! And at her age one should stop sniffing coca! 

The Elf and the Dwarf, for once by mutual consent, shot her a death glare. What is it supposed to mean? Gimli asked in a low, menacing voice.

It means what I know it means. Since you like her so much, go to _madamin_ Know-it-All and ask her to explain it to you! 

That's enough! Aragorn tried to intervene, but Victoria cut him off.

No, I've had enough of all of you! She got to her feet and walked away.

Where are you going? Aragorn shouted after her.

None of your business! 

Not even the peaceful atmosphere of the Golden Wood could calm the young witch marching between the trees.

Torey? 

Hearing that voice, she stopped in her tracks. _Édnie_! Where have you been? She ran to him and hugged him. I got so scared when I didn't find you this morning… She raised her face toward him, looking for his eyes. Galadriel didn't let you be not even while you where sleeping, did she? Boromir didn't answer and looked away, which was like an admission. Doesn't she have anything better to do? 

Boromir avoided looking at his daughter. Maybe she's right… he whispered.

What do you mean, dad? she asked worriedly.

It's just that…the Ring is so strong and then… he shook his head. Yesterday, while we were getting here…You told Sam that we were like a chain and that we weren't going to be broken, but every chain has its weak link, Torey… he took a deep breath, not looking at her. …and I fear it's me. 

Victoria was silent for some moments. It's because of the things Billy Yank said, isn't it? 

He turned to her. How can you know that we… 

That the two of you have had a heated discussion? Don't look at me like that, I didn't eavesdrop! 

Are you sure? he asked her sternly.

Oh, okay, I eavesdropped! But don't try to change subject. It's because of the things he said or not? 

Yes, it's also because of that. But there are other things… He ran a hand over his eyes. I'm afraid, Torey. I fear that I won't be strong enough, that I won't be able to prevent Gondor's fall, that I will fail my people…that I won't be able to protect those I love. He turned to look at her. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you, Torey. I don't want to ruin you. 

Listen, Boromir… the girl said as she laid a hand on his shoulder. Billy Yank is wrong. Maybe he knows the Elves, but I know Men… She gently forced him to look her in the eyes. …and above all, I know you. I know that you're fighting a bitter battle, but I'm sure you'll come off well. She let out a sigh. It's not easy, I know…The enemy takes advantage of our own strong points and uses the thing we're trying to cling to as weapons against us…but if we can turn his own weapons, that after all are our thoughts and memories, against him as well, it's already finished. Even if it's easier said than done. 

Boromir smiled softly at her, caressing her cheek. You are a precious gift, _Merilìs_. More than any ring. 

The girl smiled. They sat down under a tree and just stayed there silently, lost in their thoughts. Victoria closed her eyes and breathed in deeply the cool air. When she opened them again, her gaze fell on her father's face. Hey… she asked, moving a little. …what are you thinking about? 

Do you remember what Gimli said some time ago? he asked.

Who, _taca__ borniu c'a sertu dalla Fiat_? She made a face.

Boromir raised his eyebrows, Another nickname? 

It means "start playing your harmonica, ye blind beggar man, for the workers are coming out of the factory" and considering how far Gimli can see… 

The Man burst out laughing. You are terrible. Anyway, do you remember what he said about us, the three Humans of the Fellowship, a couple of days before the pass of Caradhras? 

Victoria nodded, an unreadable expression on her face. He said that anyone who saw us near would have thought that I was Aragorn's daughter because I have dark skin and dark hair… she turned to the warrior of Minas Tirith. …but I'm your daughter. "Am I not?" her eyes added.

You are and you will always be my little girl, he reassured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Even when you will be married with half a dozen of children. 

The girl threw her head backwards, laughing loudly. Where could I find a man so crazy to marry me? 

Oh, you'll find him, you'll find him… 

Victoria pretended to glare at him. Hey, you ain't plotting something, are you? 

Of course not, you silly girl! He replied, laughing.

Oh, well, I was just wondering… She smirked.

By the way, why were you so angry when we met? 

She made a face. I've had a small discussion with the others about our hostess… 

I see, the Man nodded.

The girl took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his own. You know…I think Gimli made that comment wondering why I was closer to you than to Aragorn. But after all, physical resemblance doesn't count. 

Maybe you should have chosen him… 

Oh, please! She looked at him in the face. Aragorn could never be my father, even if we do look alike. But he grew up among the Elves and is closer to them than to us poor mortals. Another face. Elves may be the most beautiful, the wisest and brighter than a 600 watt electric-light bulb, but sometimes they look too perfect to me. She shrugged her shoulders. Like Mrs. Galadriel. She's too much of a Gryffindor for me. I prefer the Mankind: at least, they don't make me feel dirty or inferior… 

I can understand you perfectly, he agreed.

Yeah. And then they are at fault as well! I mean, who forged the Rings of Power? The Elves! They should stop being so haughty and mighty! she concluded passionately.

It shall be better if Legolas does not cross your path for a while, he smirked.

You can say that! She nodded seriously.

Boromir sighed and stood up. I think it's time to go back for me. 

I prefer to continue my walk, Victoria replied, standing up as well. There's a couple of things I must take care of. 

Be careful not to end up in trouble, he warned her.

Don't worry, it's not in my schedule for today. The Man nodded, not really convinced, and started walking away. Hey, Johnny Reb… 

Aye? he asked as he turned around.

Victoria approached him and touched lightly the cross she had given him. Have faith. 

I will try. But it's not easy… 

Don't tell me… She sighed.

They parted. Victoria returned to the camp just in time for lunch. She didn't speak to anyone, ate quickly, took some things from her backpack and disappeared again.

She came back at sunset, after having dinner on her own. Hey, Johnny Reb! she called, motioning for him to come near.

What, _Merilìs_? 

Here, take it… she murmured, slipping a small bottle filled with a dark blue liquid in his hand. I've made you this sleeping potion. Drink two sips before laying down and you'll sleep like a stone. She winked at him. Effects guaranteed. 

Boromir smiled at her. I'm sure it will work. Thank you very much, _Merilìs_. 

Oh, that was nothing, she murmured, lowering her gaze. Then, suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I love you, _édnie_. 

I love you too, _dilàr__ neién_, [Gondorian dialect, "my little one".]

The next day, around the same time, Boromir and Victoria were coming back after a little sword practicing, chatting friendly. Right in that moment, Haldir the Marchwarden entered the small clearing, his face serious and impassive. The two Humans hurriedly joined the others to hear what was going on.

Well met, Haldir, Aragorn greeted him. Why are you here? 

I must escort one of you to the Lady, for she desires to speak with that one. 

I'm coming, replied Isildur's heir, who had already been summoned a couple of times before.

Haldir shook his head. This time it's not you, but her, he said, pointing to the only female of the group.

Me? Victoria said, puzzled.

The Marchwarden nodded. I am under orders to escort you to the Lady. 

The girl made a face. I guess I can't refuse, can I? 

Absolutely no, the blonde Elf answered.

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders. Okay, I'm coming. Don't stay up and wait for me, you know how long these meetings take… Without being seen, she briefly squeezed Boromir's hand and then followed the Elf, turning around for a moment to wave them goodbye.

As usual, she had acted tough and uncaring, but she was very nervous. As she had said more than once, she didn't like Galadriel at all and the thought of having a meeting with her wasn't exactly attractive. She heard a faint flap of wings and then Duke, her hawk, landed on her shoulder. She stroked his feathers, feeling a little bit better. At least she was not alone.

_Merilìs_= come on, you should know by now…."morning star" in Gondorian dialect. See the first footnote in chapter nine.

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	17. Chapter XVII: Slytherin

Chronicles Bailey: Was it soon enough for you? : )

CHAPTER XVII: SLYTHERIN

Victoria followed the Elf to a small garden with a fountain in its middle.

My Lady, the maiden you have sent for,Haldir announced with a graceful bow.

Galadriel smiled. Thank you, Haldir. Now leave us and see that no one will disturb us,she dismissed him kindly.

I will, my Lady.With a last bow, he took his leave.

As soon as he was out of sight, the Lady turned her gaze to the seventeen-year-old girl standing in front of her.

I'm here. What do you want? said girl asked hostilely.

Talk to you. There are things you must know, Victoria of Slytherin, before continuing your journey. 

Victoria's eyebrows rose. What are you talking about? 

Information. Events that happened long ago and others that shall happen. Her blue eyes rested on her. I know you don't believe in destiny, Victoria, but only in choices…What I will tell shall give you the opportunity to open new doors and start new paths. After all, Gandalf was right: you did not come here accidentally. 

The witch frowned. How can you know that I don't believe in destiny and what Gandalf told me? You've… 

Entered your mind? Of course, my dear. I must admit that it has not been easy, but I did so. I know your thoughts and your memories. I know what lies in your past. She moved as to lay a hand on her shoulder, but the girl avoided that touch, glaring at her. Galadriel took her hand back and was silent for a few seconds before starting again. In the small amount of time you spent with Gandalf, did he explain to you the history of the Rings of Power? 

Victoria nodded. Yeah, he did. I can even tell you the rigmarole:

"Three Rings for the Elven-kin under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf–kings in their halls of stone,

Nine for the mortal Men doomed to die,

One for the Evil Lord on his dark throne

In the land of Mordor where Shadows lie.

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them." Which would be Frodo's, she added.

And what can you tell me about the other Rings? 

Victoria snorted, "What's this, an oral test?" but in the end answered. The three Rings of the Elves are hidden. Still pure, but can't be used. The seven of the Dwarves have been caught or lost forever and the Nine of the Men are controlled by Sauron. She shuddered. Those things created the Nazguls. I know there are other lesser rings somewhere about, we may call them the rough drafts…But they aren't very powerful. Gandalf didn't say anything else about them. 

"I wonder what she's getting at…Why all these questions if we both know the answers?"

Galadriel nodded. Exactly. As you know, the One Ring had been forged in Mordor by the Dark Lord… 

Yeah, I know, but what's the point? The girl folded her arms in front of her chest.

The point, young witch, is that the One Ring was the last of the Great Rings of Power, but not the last ring that was forged. And in the Fellowship there is more than a Ring Bearer. 

Victoria frowned. Would you mind being a little bit more clear for once in a while? 

The Queen sighed. Maybe it is better if I tell you everything from the beginning… She sat down on a stone bench and invited her guest to do the same. Victoria was still diffident. The story of the Great Rings started thousands of years ago…You see, in that time an extraordinary thing happened. Some of the most powerful wizards were trying to create a spell to stop, or at least limit, Sauron's power while in another place, in your world to be more specific… Victoria startled, but Galadriel didn't seem to pay attention. …a young wizard, little more than twenty years of age, was trying to find a way to explore new worlds. The clash between the two magical forces opened a portal that brought the young wizard to our world. 

So, the girl murmured. The way had already been opened… 

Exactly, she nodded seriously. The first time was an accident…or fate. The wizard who came to Middle Earth was very powerful, even if he was young. But in spite of his age, he knew a lot of spells and incantations for he came from a family of witches and wizards. You would have called him a Pureblood, I think… Victoria nodded silently and Galadriel spoke again. Many years have passed, yet some still remember him. His name was Salazar Slytherin, 

The young witch jumped on her seat, her eyes wide open. Salazar Slytherin? But it's…he…he was the founder of my House! 

Galadriel did not speak immediately, waiting for the other to get over the shock. Yes, it was really him. She sighed. At the time he was very young. He would have founded Hogwarts, your school, only fourteen years later…and he would have taken the path of Evil only in his late days. 

I already knew this, but…what happened exactly when he came here? 

Another sigh. I do remember young Salazar: ambitious, cunning and proud…Just like the members of his House, after all. These traits are not evil…but much depends on the use one puts them on. 

And what did he do? Victoria asked, swallowing hard.

In your world, Victoria, Slytherin are the villains, the Dark Wizards and Witches…But not here. Here we knew Slytherin before his downfall and we remember him as a great and good ally. 

An ally… Victoria whispered to herself, her eyes shining with pride.

Galadriel nodded. Yes. He could have easily washed his hands of what was happening here or he could have gone over to the Shadows, which at the time covered almost the whole Middle Earth…But he didn't. He putted his magical skill out to the Last Allegiance's service and fought against Sauron by our side. 

And…? 

After the last battle, when the One Ring was taken away from Sauron, Slytherin asked to the same wizards who had brought him here to help him get back to his world. But the enchant was quite complex and to open the passage again, the Elves had to forge a last ring… 

Oh, no! Another one! How could you… 

Hush. The Last Ring, numbered with the lesser rings, was very different from the previous ones. Its only power was bringing one person from our world to yours and vice versa. 

A kind of Portkey, then… Victoria murmured. She was starting to have some suspicions that, truth to be told, were quite clear.

Before coming back to his world, Slytherin swore to keep the Last Ring secret and that, if Middle Earth would have needed it, his descendants would have come back to help us. For our part, we assured him that both him and his people would have always been well received and would have always found shelter in our world. She turned to Victoria. Sauron awoke. And Slytherin kept his promise. 

But I don't… Victoria didn't end her sentence, lowering her gaze on the ring she wore on her left hand. She took it off, laying it on the palm of her hand, and studied it carefully, as if she had never seen it before. So…this is the Last Ring? Slytherin's Ring? She shook her head. It sounds almost impossible to me. I mean, I don't even know where I got it! 

You don't? Galadriel asked her sternly. Think about it… 

Victoria closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. It's useless, I… 

Don't think! Free your mind and let memories run like an untroubled river. 

The girl let out a hoarse laughter. Untroubled? The river of my memories is all but untroubled! 

Pay attention, the Lady ordered.

Victoria tried to relax, allowing her mind to wander and guide her along the paths of memory. So she found herself running through the Nights of Vigil, in the long month of May. "May, an unlucky month…I remember, yes, I remember what I saw in those nights, how could I forget it? One by one, I've seen all of them. First the six First Years, then up to the three Seventh Years. Then the last night, May 30th , I didn't sleep. I had lived the lives of all the last true Slytherin left...or most of them. There were still three left: Marcus, Adrian and…Draco. I stayed up all night thinking about them, remembering details of the lives of the others…All night? No, wait a moment, something isn't right…"

The big clock in the Common Room had slowly struck four tolling in the silence of that warm May night. Victoria Cross was lying on her bed without sleeping. She was thinking about a lot of things all together, about her Housemates who had died a month ago, about their blood that she felt running in her veins, about their memories in her head and their souls united with hers…The last Slytherin left, but for how long? How long before they bumped her off as well, just like they had done with the others?

She was staring at the canopy without seeing it.

Then she had started feeling…weird. She didn't know how to explain it. She had felt far, far away. She felt somebody or something guiding her, but she didn't hear any voice in her head. Slowly, she rose from the bed, got out of the room and started climbing down the stairs. The third step creaked under her foot and she thought about Draco.

She crossed the empty Common Room, where on April 27th they had had an heated discussion on fighting or not the war, and went out into the cold corridor. Thomas Rhys and Kevin Wolf, two First-year boys who could have become even worse than Fred and George Weasley if they had been allowed to grow up, always chose the time between four and half-past five a.m. for their pranks because they knew that both Filch the keeper and his watch-cat Mrs. Purr were sleeping, exhausted by a night spent patrolling the corridors.

_She knew she had walked for a long time, but she couldn't tell which way she had taken. Victoria could remember the corridor along which Fourth-Year Ivor Northway had run out of embarrassment after kissing Fifith-Year Isobel Benyon; then the empty classroom where Sarah Kelso – Third Year – was tutored in Spells by Martha Tabrann, the only girl in Seventh Year. The hall were Patrick Fowler and Ianto Dawson had beaten each other, the picture near the stairs that Eunice Jenkins liked so much…She could remember a lot of places linked to many facts of life, but she didn't know if she had really been there or if it had been a distorted echo of the memories of her twenty-nine companions. _

_She remembered reaching the __Northern__Tower__ and touching a strange symbol on the wall, a snake wrapped around a circle, on which had been carved Elvish words. The wall had slid away, revealing a stair. _

_Then…then she had climbed up that stair to a room under the roof. The nightly air came in through hundreds and hundreds of hidden cracks, accompanied by the moonlight. On a table, in the middle of the room, there was something that shone upon a faded cushion of green velvet. _

_The Last Ring._

_Slytherin's__ Ring._

_She didn't remember putting it on and yet there it was. She didn't know what had happened. She just knew that she was in her dorm, lying on her bed and staring at the canopy as if she had never moved, as if it had been a dream. Eyes wide open, hands crossed on her chest…And the ring on her left ring finger. _

Victoria blinked as if she was awaking from a strange dream…and it could have been a dream, if it hadn't been for the ring, undeniable proof that it was the truth. She gazed at Galadriel, who started speaking again. Salazar was a wise man. When they built Hogwarts, he hid the Last Ring in the Northern Tower. 

Slytherins' refuge… Victoria murmured.

Yes. Only the members of his House who would have been worthy of it could find the ring and use it… for the first time, the she-elf smiled faintly. …and who better than you, Victoria, who keep the souls and the blood of the last Slytherins? 

The girl didn't answer. She slipped a hand in her pocket and touched the keys of her house tied to the key-ring. Gandalf knew that my ring was the Last Ring… she whispered. Why didn't he tell me that? 

He probably didn't have the time to do so, Galadriel tried to reassure her.

Again, Victoria didn't answer, thinking about that night in Moria, when he hadn't let her cast away her keys. There wasn't any doubt: he **_knew_**. He had wanted to tell her that if ever the mission had become too…too much, than she could go back to Earth. How…How did I end up here? I mean, I understood that it must have been my Ring, but I don't think that it works like the One Ring. I've been wearing it since May and I came here in October. 

Traveling from a world to another is not so easy. You thought that the Floo Powder hadn't worked correctly… Victoria couldn't help an irritated sigh seeing how much exactly the Elf had seen in her mind. …but you were wrong. Remember? Before shouting your destination, you thought that any other place in the world would have been better than Hogwarts…and probably you are right about this, at least for what concerns you. The Ring felt your desire to stay away from that school and was by that activated, bringing you here to Middle Earth. 

Victoria was silent, thousand of thoughts running through her head. Why are you telling me this? 

You have the right to know it. You believe in choices, Victoria. Now you have to opportunity to make one. 

She raised her eyebrows: Now? 

No, not now. But remember: if one day you want to go back home, you will have the opportunity to do so. You will just have to wish for it and the ring will take you back. 

Oh, I should live as long as an Elf does before reaching **_that_** point… she muttered. As she got to her feet, she asked more loudly, Can I go now? 

Not yet. 

She stopped and turned to the queen. Why? 

Galadriel took a few steps toward her. I wish to warn you. I know that in your world there is a saying, "Birds of feather flock together." Be careful about the people you choose and associate with. 

Victoria's eyes narrowed until they became two slits. What does Boromir have to do with all of this? 

Galadriel was startled. She had certainly underestimated that girl, she was smarter than she had thought. He is a Man. And Men desire power more than anything. The Ring is calling him and he can't resist Its voice. You swore that you would protect the Ring Bearer from any kind of Evil, young witch. Will you do it even if Evil will come from within the Fellowship? 

Let my father be, okay? He doesn't have anything to do with it. It's not his fault. 

His downfall could be the ruin of all! Galadriel replied sternly.

Nobody ever said that he has to fall! Victoria shouted. You know a lot about my world and my bond with Boromir, don't you? Well, I'm surprised you managed to grow so old since you're so nosy! 

Beware, girl… 

Beware my foot! I don't care who you are, I'll protect those I love from anyone! 

But will you be able to do so? Galadriel provoked her.

Victoria spoke with deadly calmness. Maybe I will and maybe I won't. But as long as I can breathe, I'll do everything in my power to protect them! 

Like you did on the Caradhras? the queen replied. Victoria winced and she kept on speaking. I see you remember…don't you? Your soul was torn in two, you were caught in the middle…and didn't know to whom you should turn to. She stared at her icily. Your heart is torn in two and cannot be trusted. 

It's better having a heart torn in two than having no heart at all! hissed the last Slytherin.

One day you will have to choose, Galadriel said.

WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THAT! 

They silently faced each other for long minutes, then Victoria spoke again. Let me and my father be. You have no right to torment us! 

But it's my duty to make sure that your mission succeeds! Galadriel shot back.

Torturing two poor chaps is such a good way to do so! For the last time, let us be! With these last words, Victoria walked away, heading back to the camp. Duke followed her, flying by her side. She managed to calm down a little before reaching her destination, which was a good thing for someone was still up, waiting for her. The light was faint, yet she recognized him as soon as he got to his feet to go to meet her. _Édnie_… she hugged him as tight as she could, without saying anything else.

That was about time, _Merilìs_! You weren't coming back, I was so worried… Boromir stepped back a little, enough to look at her face as he still held her in his arms. What did Lady Galadriel want? 

Nothing… the girl replied. …just lecture me for my behavior. It seems that she doesn't like to be called "Know-it-all" and "Gryffindor. " 

Did she reproach you a lot? he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. Naah, and then all the things she says to me go in at one ear and out at the other. 

I'm glad to see that you take it so lightly. By the way, we have talked a lot while you were away. Tomorrow will be our last day here in Lothlorien. 

Victoria let out a sigh of relief. Finally good news! Another sigh, quite different from the first. I told ya, Johnny Reb: the place is beautiful, but the farther away I am from the landlady the better I feel! 

Boromir smiled conciliatory, softly caressing her cheek. Now go to sleep. You need your rest. 

The girl nodded. Goodnight, _édnie_, She kissed his cheek and walked away.

Goodnight, little soldier. 

Victoria slipped under the tent and came near her pallet, pushing back her blanket. A rustle made her turn around and she found herself gazing at Frodo's sleepy face.

Is that you, Vivi? He asked in a voice thick with drowsiness, trying to keep his eyes open.

Yes, Frodo, it's me. Don't you worry. 

The Hobbit nodded. Good. I wanted to stay up and wait for you, but… he yawned …I couldn't make it. 

Sssh, it doesn't matter. I'm here now, she whispered caressing his cheek. Go back to sleep. 

All…all right. 'Night, Vivi, he murmured as he laid down and covered himself with his blankets.

Sleep tight, Frodo. 

By their side, Pippin turned in his sleep, moaning softly. The witch smiled a little and slipped under her blanket. The last thing she saw before closing her eyes was her hawk, roosted on the branch of a tree.

Liked it? Hated it? Review so I'll now.


	18. Chapter XVIII: Confrontations Part Two

Hi everybody! First of all, I wish to apologize for the delay: i would have updated sooner, but my computer has been driving me mad, so i had to wait until it was fixed.

Shadow: blushes Thank you! That's very kind of you. Your nick is very cool, by the way.

Sweetlittlecherry: glad to hear that! And don't worry, I definitely will – if my computer lets me, that's it... glares at her monitor

Fredthebaker: wow, glad to hear that, especially because i had a lot of doubts concerning the first chapter(s).

Elrohir lover: blushes crimson Oops...sorry.

Catgirl1989: As fast as **_this_** points accusingly at her computer will let me.

Kerla: Thank you for telling me. I re-posted the chapter several times, but nothing changed. Then my computer decided to go on strike. I've just got it back, so as I post this I will check again, both for this and the last chapter.

Neosun 7: Tks a lot ! : )

Tinkerbell33: Of course they do look alike: they share the same hairdresser... Just kidding. Anyway, since Victoria was in love with Draco and she's a Slytherin herself, I'd take it as a compliment.

Olwyen: I'll do my best, but it doesn't entirely depend on me – i have to stick to the original Italian version, because changing things would be too complicated.

Alassea2: Thanks a lot, Alassea. It's always good to hear from you.

Chronicles Bailey: I'm glad to hear that. BTW, there's a new cliffhger just for you... smiles evilly I swear I just couldn't help it, though I don't think it's really a cliffhanger. I , come on, it's pretty obvious!

And now...

CHAPTER XVIII: CONFRONTATIONS – PART TWO

About one hour before dawn, an almost inhuman scream shattered the peace of the Woods of Lothlorien and awoke brusquely the Fellowship. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli automatically reached for their weapons, moved by their warrior instinct. Merry and Pippin got to their feet, crashed against each other and ended up tangled into their own blankets while Sam immediately turned to his master. Frodo threw his eyes wide open, his heart hammering in his chest. In less than a second he was wide awake and turned onto his side, trying to wriggle out of the blanket and get near Victoria, who had let out that scream.

Suddenly, the girl opened her eyes. As soon as she focused on the Hobbit's face in front of her, she threw herself backwards, as if she wanted to escape from him.

What's wrong, Vivi? he murmured soothingly.

The girl just stared at him with her eyes wide open and then got to her feet, leaving the tent in a hurry. There was only one clear thought in her head: get away from there as fast as she could.

Legolas came in her way, grabbing her by the shoulders. What happened, Vicky? 

She turned her head not to look at him and her eyes fell on Boromir's peaceful face. The Man was still sleeping under the potion's effects and his slumber was so deep that he hadn't heard anything. Victoria let out a choked cry and pushed the Elf away, running in the woods.

What's the matter with her? Merry asked out loud.

Frodo swallowed hard. Did you see how she looked at me? he whispered. It was as if…as if she feared me, I…I don't understand… 

Sam laid a hand on his shoulder. No, no, Mister Frodo. I'm sure that you don't have anything to do with that, 

Bah! Gimli muttered. That girl has three or four screws loose, that's for sure. What a way to wake us up! He turned to the four Hobbits. Go back to sleep, lads. The only thing we can do is wait for her to calm down on her own. 

But… Frodo tried to object.

Master Gimli is right, Mister Frodo… Sam spoke up. …we must take full advantage of our last day here. He gently pushed the three young cousins toward the tent. But Frodo kept on tuning back, glancing at the point were Victoria had disappeared.

What do you think about this?Aragorn asked in a low voice.

Legolas kept on staring at the woods. I know not…I don't understand what happened to her…He turned to the Ranger. We should not leave her alone

Aragorn sighed. Boromir would know what to do, but he won't wake up until the effects of the potion has wore off…

Legolas did not answer and kept on watching him.

The other gazed at the Man of Minas Tirith, then at the forest. It is better if I follow her…You stay here. If we don't come back before Boromir wakes up, do not let him come to look for us,

All right.

The Ranger started walking in the woods, followed by Legolas and Gimli's gazes. So, he's going to look for her? The Elf nodded. Bah. I hope that he will come back completely whole. 

Aragorn walked for a long time until he couldn't see the camp or hear his friends anymore. He was straining his ears, trying to capture every sound. He found another broken branch: Victoria must have passed that way. Suddenly he stopped, almost holding his breath, for a small noise had reached his ears. Somebody was crying, trying to choke down her sobs. Following the faint sound track, he finally found whom he had been looking for. Victoria sat on a huge tree root, leaning forward, her face hidden behind her hands and her dark hair. He took a few steps toward her before speaking. Victoria… he whispered.

Slowly, the girl straightened her back and raised her face. The Ranger could barely suppress a start. He had never seen her in that state, so desperate and upset…Surely, she must have looked more or less like that to the teacher that entered the Slytherin Common Room on May 1st and found her huddled in a corner, surrounded by her Housemates' bodies.

Aragorn sat down by her side, trying to console her a little. Calm down, Vicky…Everything is all right. He had to wait for a long time before she could speak. Do you wish to tell me what happened?  
I killed him… she murmured, shaking. It was me, I killed him…I promised to help him and then… 

Who are you talking about? Who did you kill? He interrupted her.

Boromir, Victoria answered.

Aragorn frowned. Boromir is sleeping at the camp, Victoria. You did not kill him, it's impossible… 

Yes, I did! She cut him off. In my dream… 

He let out a sigh. Victoria, that was just a dream. It doesn't mean anything, 

**_It wasn't_** just a dream! she replied. It was so…real. I-I've had a dream like that before. 

The Ranger hesitated. Do you think you can tell me what happened exactly? 

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, then she opened them again and started speaking. I was…I was walking in a wood here, in Middle Earth, and then…I heard voices. They were Boromir and Frodo, but I couldn't…couldn't understand what they were saying. Then I heard t-the sound of swords clashing. I…I started running toward that noise and I saw Boromir fighting against a person who wore a gray cloak and had his back turned on me… She took a deep breath. I couldn't move, it was as if I had been hypnotized…The battle went on and then…and then… Her voice died out, her hands clenching. I saw Boromir…being stabbed at his chest…t-the sword ran through him…I saw his blood running out of the wound, soaking his clothes…I saw his eyes as he died, I saw him dropping on the ground! 

Ssh, Aragorn whispered, laying a hand on her trembling shoulder. It's all right, 

Victoria swallowed hard. I wanted to shout, I wanted to throw myself at the person in the gray cloak but I couldn't…And then Gray Cloak slowly turned toward me and…and I thought that he was going to attack me, but then lowered his hood…and it was me! I was looking at my own face! I felt a sort of dizziness…when I pulled myself together, I was standing in front of my father's body, wearing a gray cloak, clutching in my hand my sword covered with blood and there was blood on my clothes, on my hands, on my face…And I could feel Frodo's eyes on my back, I didn't see him but I **_know_** he was there, he was behind me…then I threw my sword on the ground and I started screaming… she bowed her head. …and then I think I woke up. New tears started running down her cheeks. It was her, she murmured in a broken voice. I know it was her, I could bet my life on it…That damned harpy! 

Who are you talking about? Aragorn asked again.

Galadriel! she replied furiously. That filthy toad! 

How can you be sure that it was her, the one who gave you that nightmare? he sighed patiently.

How can you be sure that it wasn't her? Victoria said, looking at him in the eyes. Aragorn looked away. I just wonder… she murmured. …what the Hell do you have against us Men! 

I am a Man, Vicky, and… 

She turned to look at him. You are? 

In that moment, he understood. You heard my argument with Boromir, 

Yeah, I did. And if you wish to know my opinion, I say that he's damn right about you, 

Isildur's Heir sighed, not looking at her. It's not easy, Victoria…You know what happened to my ancestor, you know what weakness flows in my blood… he shook his head. After the things you told us about your world, the scarce trust I had in myself and that Mankind has notably lessened. 

The girl frowned, not quite understanding. Did I hear well, you really said "scarce trust in yourself"? 

You look surprised… he noted.

Well…I am. But there's a thing I wish to ask you: what makes you think that my Earth is Middle Earth's future? 

Now it was his turn to be astonished: You think that it's not so? 

I don't think it, I'm absolutely sure that it won't be so, she looked around. This world is similar to mine, I admit it, but it's not exactly the same. 

Men are the same, he said.

No, they aren't, Victoria shot back.

Oh, please, Victoria! he cried out, irritated. Look at yourself. If it wasn't for the strange clothes you wear, no one could realize that you are not from this world, 

You're wrong, she answered, firm and resolute. Changing my clothes wouldn't be enough. There still would be the way I talk, the way I behave, the way I think…and a thousand other details, but this ain't the point. She took a deep breath and laid a hand on his arm. Listen, Billy Yank, maybe I don't know how to read in Elvish or use a bow or follow a track, but there is something I know. I know Men, especially those who live in my world. From what I saw, I can grant you that the Men of this world are not and will never be like them. 

Finally, Aragorn met her gaze. Are you sure? 

As sure as I know how to breathe, she answered.

They sat silently side by side for a few moments.

You love Boromir very much, don't you? 

The girl nodded. He's my father. Oh, I know that we aren't really related, but I don't care. I mean, my real father was barely aware of my existence, while with Boromir…I feel him so close to me, I do love him and I don't wanna lose him, she turned to him. Did I make myself at least a little bit more clear? 

Perfectly. Yes, he knew what Victoria felt for the warrior of Minas Tirith. He hadn't forgotten the bond he shared with Elrond, who had raised him like a child of his own when his father Arathorn had died.

Good. So you'll understand that I don't give a damn about what you may tell me. I won't let him fight alone. 

You're setting him on a pedestal, he accused her.

Not at all! she got to her feet. I was…I **_am_** a Slytherin, Billy Yank. The most imperfect House of Hogwarts, the one who lost more boys and girls to the Dark Side than any other…But because of this, we were the most human House. She shook her head. They used to say that Slytherins had no heart but, if it had been so, how could you explain the fact that we have often forgiven and offered a second chance? 

You didn't forgive the Gryffindors or the other Houses, he remarked.

And can you blame me? she asked, her face blank.

He lowered his gaze. No. 

The girl sighed. My religion recommends forgiveness…But what they have done to me, what they have done to us is not forgivable, 

And surrendering to the Ring is? 

Look who's talking! You are afraid you won't be able to resist it! She gazed at him angrily. I don't think you understand the power of the Ring, 

Why, you can? 

Yeah, I can, for I know Evil and I often found myself within it. She took a deep breath. Do you know what a Dementor is? 

No, I've never head of it. 

Victoria folded her arms against her chest. It's a creature of my world, somehow similar to a Nazgul…Dementors take away all your good memories, leaving you alone with your regrets and your worst experiences. And if you allow them to do so, they'll nourish themselves off of you so much that you'll become like them. 

Aragorn understood. Just like the Ring of Power… 

Exactly, she nodded. It's not you who surrender to the Ring, It comes into your head like an Imperius Curse. You can try to resist it, but how long? How long before you lose every hope? Aragorn was silent and Victoria added, That's what I wanna avoid, that Boromir loses every hope. He hasn't much to cling to. 

What if he will fall nonetheless? 

Victoria drew herself up to her full height, a flame of firmness shining in her eyes. If he falls, I'll be there to help him rise again and I'll always be the last person on Earth who will rebuke him or remind him his fall. In the Bible there's written that there will be more joy in Heaven for a lost soul that has been found than for ninety-nine that were never lost. She closed her eyes for a moment. Remember my friend Adrian? 

The boy who became a Death Eater? 

That's him. Have I ever told you of the letter he wrote me? I can still remember it. He said that he didn't know how he could have gotten himself into that mess, that he just wanted to find a place were he wouldn't have been treated with suspicion because he was a Slytherin and a proud one too… she rubbed a hand over her eyes. He has always been one that first acts and then thinks. He wrote me that at Draco's funeral he had felt ashamed as a thief because he hadn't been able to save his own soul as Draco had. He had realized his mistake and desperately wanted to come back to the light, but he was afraid. He asked me to forgive him and pray for him. She turned to Isildur's heir. And I did both. 

Are you planning to do the same with Boromir? he asked.

Another sigh. I've already said it once, but let me repeat it again, Billy Yank: whatever happens, I'll stay with him. 

Aragorn got to his feet. As you wish. But now it's time for us to go. The others must be worried. 

Victoria hesitated for a moment, then followed him. They walked silently, Duke – who had followed his mistress as usual – flying above them, until the clearing was in sight.

Listen, Billy Yank, Victoria murmured. I'd appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut about my nightmare. Can I count on it or I have to modify your memory to make you forget everything? 

You have my word that I won't tell anyone, he reassured her.

Victoria nodded, Good. With a couple of strides, she came out of the wood and into the clearing.

Torey! Boromir cried out immediately, greeting her. In a second, the girl was in his arms, her face buried against his shoulder. What happened, _réi neién_? A.N. my child (female child) in Gondorian dialect. he murmured, caressing her hair. Where have you been? They told me you have had a nightmare… 

Galadriel… she whispered.

Ah, he remarked, his face darkening as he held her closer without even realizing it. Then he saw Isildur's heir, who stood back at the edge of the wood. Their gazes met. Boromir's eyes were full of anger, almost as if he was blaming him for what the Elvish queen had done. Aragorn was impassive, yet, somehow the other Man felt the mistrust he was trying to conceal. Maybe it had often been there, but previously it had been well disguised, at least. Now it was too late, in every possible sense. The words of the previous evening, both said and unsaid ones, weighed between them.

Boromir turned to his daughter. You should take some rest, _dilàrlis_. As you know, we'll be leaving tomorrow and you look tired. _dilàrlis_: little star. Gondorian dialect.

Victoria nodded, barely suppressing a yawn. It was true, the nightmare and what had happened later had sucked away all her energy. She allowed herself to be gently guided under the tent.

Her father helped her to lie down and tucked her in. Here, he said as he handed her a small bottle that contained a dark blue liquid. She recognized it immediately. Take a sip of your potion, it will help your sleep, 

Victoria sat up and drank a little, then she gave the bottle back with a smile. Thanks… 

Thanks to you. Now lay down and sleep. 

She barely nodded as she followed his orders. The last thing she saw was her father sitting by her side. She felt his hand gently caressing her own face, then she fell into a deep slumber.

Liked it? Hated it? Let me know


	19. Chapter XIX: Through the mirror

Hi everybody… Sorry if it took me such a long time to update, but school is horrible right now and I'm also very busy with my hunt for Christmas presents…

Olwyen: sorry if I didn't update sooner… however, this story/series is gonna be quite long, so you won't be disappointed.

Alassea2: THANK YOU! Your reviews always make me so happy!

Celebwen Telcontar: Thank you, I'm glad you find it interesting.

Tinkerbell033: Wow, that's a lot of thing to answer… sweat drops Ok, let's start… ( I suggest you to grab a cup of coffee because I have a tendency to write/talk too much when I'm trying to explain something I like )

Review to chapter 8: you're right, in HP books Slytherin are always mean and narrow minded. However, in the books there's only a small group of recurring Slythering characters – which also applies to the other Houses, since it would be impossible to talk about every single student in Hogwarts, so I guess J. K. Rowling just decided to follow a representative group of students for every House.

My point is: can a whole House be evil? I don't think so. However, belonging to a certain House or a certain family can result in people perceiving you in a certain way even though they don't know you. You're right when you said that most Slytherin have prejudices against Muggleborns and Muggles – but that's because of the way they were brought up in their families. And speaking of prejudices, the other Houses don't perceive them as evil just because of the House they belong to? In the first book there's even Harry Potter thinking that all the members of the House of Slytherin look ugly and disagreeable. The books are obviously written in the Hero's POV, but, as I said before, they don't – and can't – cover for everyone. I'm not changing canon, I'm only writing form the POV of a Slytherin who was not evil, but has been treated as such.

I don't think I understand what you mean with "Slytherins joining the other Houses": you mean in the fight against Lord Voldemort – or whatever Dark Lord feels up for world domination this week – or while they are in school? Maybe it was just an impression, but I felt a good amount of rivalry between all the four Houses – Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor seems to team up together only when they can do something against big bad Slytherins. If you meant against the Dark Lord, well, Snape joined the fight, didn't he? And also some of Victoria's Housemates wanted to fight for Dumbledore – but they never had the chance…

Anyway, I think you should read the first stories of the whole "Victoria" series, if you want to. They're called "Drops of water wearing through the stone" and "She stayed" and you can find them in my profile. I remember that in the initial author note I said it wasn't necessary because I would explain everything during "The ten walkers" – however summing up another story has evidently proved more difficult than I thought. I'm sure that they could help you with some of your doubts – I'm really sorry I couldn't solve them properly in the story, but sometimes it's hard to realize if you had said anything a reader should know.

For the Malfoy/Legolas question… Anybody with fine features and bright blonde hair would immediately spark Victoria's mind about Draco, since she was so in love with him when he died and she still feels guilty about his death because she thought she could have stopped him somehow.

Review Chapter 15: As strange as it may sound, I think it's pretty disgusting as well – however, when I started working on the "new" Victoria, I decided to gave her an habit that would make her look more like a bad girl and less like a Mary Sue: in the end, smoking won. Being a fictional character, she'll be lucky enough to eschew smoking-linked diseases unless I decide otherwise. Err…I don't know if you noticed, but she's not the only one who smokes: we see ( or read of ) Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli and possibly the whole Hobbit community smoking.

Chapter 16: Ehm…Sorry, but I don't think I really understood your comment. Is it about Torey and Boromir's chat in the woods? I don't think she's acting "Gryffindoringly" toward the Elves: she does not refuse to talk to them or to work with them just because they are Elves, she does not think they're automatically in league with Sauron because they fell into his trap once. She hasn't killed any Elf…yet ( just kidding ). Anyway, it's not that she doesn't like Elves – she made friends with Legolas after all – she doesn't like Galadriel. She was talking about the Elves' faults just to cheer Boromir up and make him recover some of his self-esteem.

I hope I managed to set things straight with all my rambling…

Lady Iorny: though I doubt you'll ever read my reply, I'll write it here nonetheless – I'd have emailed you, but your review was "anonymous" and you didn't leave any address. I know that 9 was symbolic (nine walkers Vs nine riders) but that was the only half decent title I could come up with ( I leave the others to your imagination… ). "Tenth Ringwraith"? 00 **_What_** tenth Ringwraith? Was there a tenth Ringwrait? I didn't see him. You said that my character is a Mary Sue and that she upstages the Fellowship, but from your comment, I gained the impression that, though it was posted to Chapter one, you only read the title and not the actual chapter or at least the author notes. I also wish you'd be more clear with your suggestions: OFUM and PPC must be fanfiction – I'd gladly read them, only I don't know how to find them since I don't have the complete titles. I'm not English nor American, but even if I was, I doubt I could find them in the huge ocean of stories that's If I sounded "rude and childish" as you predicted, I'm sorry for I just meant to answer you, however you had no right of accusing me since it's the very first time you write me.

CHAPTER XIX: THROUGH THE MIRROR

Victoria turned on her side, stubbornly keeping her eyes closed. Sleep just wouldn't come, even if she was tired from working with the others to get ready for their imminent departure. Her companions had done so quite reluctantly, but it hadn't been her case.

"How weird that I can't sleep neither the first nor the last day I spend in this Goddamned place…That's surely bad luck since I can't recover tomorrow!"

A faint rustling of blankets near her caught her attention. She stiffened, almost holding her breath. She cautiously cracked one eye open and saw somebody standing in the tent. After all the mishaps they had faced together, she had learned to recognize her companions in the dark, even if she didn't have the sight of an Elf, simply from small details: the way they walked, they way they carried their bags…and then, in Lothlorien it was never **_really_** dark, even when the sun had gone down. Her heart jumped in her chest. "Frodo…"

She saw him slip outside, careful not to wake the others, as if attracted by an invisible call.

As soon as he was far enough, she slipped out of her pallet and followed him, careful not to be seen and not to make any noise.

"Where is he going? And why?"

A sharp bend of the path provided an answer to her question. Victoria covered behind a tree, watching the Lady of the Golden Wood walking barefoot on the green lawn.

"That's her again!"

Hiding behind the trees, she kept on following them until she saw her climbing down a stair. The Hobbit was some meters behind them. Without realizing it, Victoria had been faster than him and now she was right between the two of them.

The girl barely suppressed a swear when the Lady disappeared from her sight. "Now how the Hell can I follow them down there without being seen?"

She heard a faint sound behind her. Turning around swiftly, she let out a low sigh of relief when she saw that it was just Duke. The hawk flapped his wings and took off, then stopped on a branch not far away and turned to look at her. That was enough.

Frodo climbed down the stairs slowly, watching every move of the Elf queen. He saw her immersing a silver amphora in a spring welling up nearby. By now, he had reached the bottom of the stairs. He kept on walking, half-circling the strange basin placed on the small column.

Will you look into the mirror? the Lady asked, holding the amphora between her hands.

What will I see? the Hobbit asked, uncertain and suspicious.

The faintest smile graced her lips. Even the wisest cannot tell. She started pouring water into the basin, holding the urn high. For the mirror shows many things. Things that were… she lowered the amphora until it almost grazed the water. …things that are… She slowly raised it again as the last drops fell into the basin. …and some things that have not yet come to pass. 

Frodo studied her for a moment, then, slowly, came near and rose on his tip-toes to reach the mirror. At first he saw nothing but his own reflection. The Hobbit raised his gaze on the Lady and saw her staring at him calmly. He lowered his gaze on the mirror and the water was shaken by tiny ripples. New images showed themselves to his eyes. First he saw Legolas, his eyes full of weariness as he had never seen them before. Then Merry and Pippin dropping with exhaustion. Then Sam, with that tired look in his eyes as well, and Victoria, who was looking at him with empty eyes and a broken gaze. He saw the Shire, his peaceful and serene Shire, submerged with a dark shadow, its houses on fire, its inhabitants chained and beaten, its green fields transformed into a desolate and barren moor…and from those images of ruin and destruction, like the moon behind the treetops, rose the great Eye of flame, vigilant, evil, frightening, real…So real that the Ring was attracted by it, slipping out form underneath the shirt's collar and stretching downward, as if he wanted to pass through the mirror and commune with that blazing eye. Or maybe not, maybe it would be enough for the Ring to **_graze _**the mirror and they would be immediately localized. It was growing heavier, like a stone, and pulling him down, toward the Eye…With immense effort, Frodo grasped the Ring and pushed himself back, moving away from those images and that cursed Eye. He fell on the ground, panting and terrified, fighting to get back his self-control and a regular breathing.

I know what it is you saw, Galadriel said. For it is also in my mind. Her lips closed, but her voice was still speaking. Frodo could hear her clearly…he could hear her in his head.

"It is what will come to pass if you should fail. The Fellowship is breaking. It has already begun. **_He will try to take the Ring_**. You know of whom I speak. One by one, It will destroy them all."

"If you ask it of me…" Frodo replied, slowly opening his fist. "…I will give you the One Ring."

Galadriel's gaze was captured by the jewel. You offer it to me freely… she said as she approached, like a moth that's attracted to a flame and yet tries to resist it. She stretched out her right hand toward it, but it was shaking, like her voice was. I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this. She stopped, raising her arms toward the sky. In place of a Dark Lord, you will have a queen! An immense and terrible light sprang from her, wrapping her completely, almost erasing all the things around them. Her voice became loud as the roar of a waterfall and deep like the sky, filling every corner of the Earth and every molecule of air. Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love me and despair! 

The light grew weak and died out. The storm was gone as fast as it had begun, leaving the queen of the Galadhrim shaking and troubled, but somehow calm and happy. I passed the test! I will diminish and go into the West…and remain Galadriel. She closed her eyes, relieved.

Frodo spoke up in an uncertain voice. I cannot do this alone. 

The queen's blue eyes opened up again and stared back at him. You are a Ring Bearer, Frodo. To bear a Ring of Power is to be alone. More sweetly, with a strange melancholy, she added. This task was appointed to you, and if you do not find a way, no one will. 

Then, I know what I must do, the Hobbit murmured. It's just…I'm afraid to do it. He couldn't stop thinking about the others, about his companions. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir who fought for their people; Sam Merry and Pippin who had wanted to come with him at all costs; Victoria…Aye. Victoria.

Galadriel leaned over him. Even the smallest person can change the course of the future. Frodo nodded softly, closing his fingers over the Ring. The Lady laid a hand on his cheek. Now go to rest, little Hobbit, and pluck up your courage. Many trials still await you. 

Thank you, Lady. He excused himself with a quick nod and climbed up the stairs, walking away between the trees.

Galadriel watched him go until she could not see him anymore, then spoke out loud, without even turning around. He cannot see you now. You can show yourself. A faint sound of leaves and grass trampled down was heard, then a feminine figure slowly came out from the shadows of the trees. You are stubborn, Victoria of Slytherin. 

I am a member of the Fellowship of the Ring, she replied proudly. And it's my duty to protect the Ring Bearer from **_any _**enemy. 

But will you be able to perform this task to the end? the Elf shot back.

Victoria didn't answer immediately, watching her menacingly behind her half-close eyelids, her right hand still clutching her wand. You Elves underestimate the strength of Men. 

And you trust it too much. 

Maybe yes and maybe no, but right now none of us can claim to be right. 

Galadriel pursed her lips. Do as you wish, girl. 

With your leave, **_your majesty_**, I retire. She turned and moved to leave, but the Lady's voice held her back.

You love him deeply, don't you? 

Who are talking about? Victoria asked.

Frodo. Galadriel slowly approached her. You do worry a lot about him, don't you? 

Yeah. I care for him, not just because he's the Bearer of that trice-be-damned Ring. She shook her head. It shouldn't have gone to him. He **_doesn't _**deserve all that has happened, nor all that will happen. 

A bolt of steel flashed for a moment in the eyes of the queen. What do you know exactly of the things that await you? 

The girl shrugged her shoulders. Not much. I'm no seer…At least, it's not me. They're just feelings I can't decipher. Probably no one could. 

Galadriel nodded. Too little is the blood of Gawain Morgan**1** in your veins, it does not allow you more. Yet you should know that it was his destiny, that he was meant to have the Ring… 

I don't believe in destiny, remember? Only in choices. 

And tonight you have made one, she said solemnly. You were ready to do anything to protect him. You would have killed me, but you did not do that. 

The girl ran her hands through her tangled hair. That's because you didn't menace him in any way…at least physically. Her gaze hardened. But in the very moment you would have tried to take the Ring or to hurt him…Well, I was ready to cast a spell. Luckily there was no need of that. She shook her head. After all, I'm not a killer, but I'm not afraid to become one. 

Oh, really? Are you sure? 

Victoria glared at her. Don't you dare trying it! she hissed between her clenched teeth. I **_know_** what you're implying…It's about my father, isn't it? Well, let me tell you a thing, **_Lady:_** I could have hit you as soon as you started babbling but I didn't, I waited to see if you would have come back to your senses or not… 

What if I hadn't? Galadriel cut her off.

Then I would have stopped you. But the spell that would have hit you wouldn't be the Killing Curse. Victoria looked at her in the eyes. There's more than one way to stop somebody, Lady Galadriel…and you should know this. 

I hope you will make the right choice, girl, she remarked.

You can't judge it. Whatever happens, it will be my choice. And even now, I declare myself ready to be held responsible for it, 

Do as you wish, then. But think before you act, she warned her.

I don't need you to tell me that, the girl replied, then she turned and walked away. The hawk followed her, as usual.

Galadriel watched her go. She already knew that Victoria had decided that she wouldn't allow Frodo to bear the burden of the Ring and the pain on his own. But with all her power, she couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not.

**1 Gawain Morgan**: he has been briefly cited in the previous chapters. He was a Seer, but he was only a Second Year when the Slytherins were killed on April 30th, so he had not started Divination Classes yet. He had had blurry visions of the attack, but could not decipher them in time, thus being killed with his Housemates. For his blood in Victoria's veins, see chapter 12.


	20. Chapter XX: The Journey Continues

I can't believe I haven't updated in such a long time! I'm really sorry, school has been horrible. And sometimes I can be lazier than Shikamaru – whoever reads the manga "Naruto" knows who I'm talking about.

Mercva: wow, thank you! Uhmm… I think it would depend on the Gryffindor. If he happened to be Ron Weasley, well… In that case, blood would probably be spilled. From both parties. Even if he happened to be another Gryffindor, Victoria would not be happy at all.

Tinkerbell033: You're welcome. I'm glad you still like it.

tenshikoneko03: thank you very much. I am really glad you liked it because I've always feared it would be a boring chapter with all that talking. I didn't want to write another "Council of Elrond – book style"

Lady Vamp1:err… I admit I took my time… I'll try to update sooner the next time!

Author's note: Since has been really annoying with inverted commas, I have decided to change them. From now on,

"speech"

'thoughts'

" /Elvish/ "

I can't remember if bold and italic worked… I hope so. However, I'll update each chapter twice: one with the new format and the other with the regulars – just to see if and when it's going to be fixed!

CHAPTER XX: THE JOURNEY CONTINUES

Author's note: this chapter is a mix between book-verse and movie-verse.

Victoria woke up early that morning. She had rested enough and then, she was quite eager to get away from Galadriel's range of action. Since they had packed all their belongings the previous evening, she didn't have anything to do. So, after gathering a few clean clothes, she walked to the "bathroom" (Truth to be told, it wasn't exactly a conventional bathroom, but she didn't know how to call it).

She came out of there cleaned and dressed and started wandering about the wood.

They had decided to continue their journey on the river, sailing down the Anduin with some boats. That's why the girl decided to have a look at said river. After asking for the direction from a couple of Elves, she finally reached a clear part of the banks. The boats that they were to take with all the other things they would need weren't very far down the riverbank, but from that point she could see only the Great River slowly flowing by between the woods, trees and sky reflected on her surface and the sunrays dancing upon her waters. That was a wonderful sight and Victoria admired it openly. She sat down under a tree near the riverbank, leaning her back against it.

She stayed like that for a long time, without thinking and feeling peaceful for the first time. Suddenly she turned around, hearing approaching footsteps, but her face was lit up by a smile when the other person appeared among the trees. "Good morning, _édnie_."

"Good morrow, _Meril�s_." He immediately added, "I hope I haven't disturbed you…"

Victoria shook her head fiercely. "You could never disturb me. Come and sit down."

Boromir smiled at her and sat down in front of her, leaning his back on the trunk behind him. They silently watched the river: such a sight didn't need words. The warrior of Minas Tirith leaned toward the clear water and, slowly, with a kind of magic solemnity, dipped his hand into it. "Anduin…" he murmured. "She runs through Gondor and passes near the walls of my city."

Victoria let her eyes wander on the shining waters. "There's a river…" She whispered "That runs through my city too." She turned to her father. "You also call the Anduin "The Great River," don't you?"

"Aye, she's Middle Earth's longest and largest river…even if here she doesn't look so. Her bed grows wider in the South,"

"And she flows near Minas Tirith…" she whispered to herself as she kept on staring at the water.

Boromir watched his daughter silently. He wouldn't force her to speak if she wasn't ready.

The girl shook her head. "That's pretty incredible…You see, the Po…The river that runs through my city is Italy's longest river. And he's called "the Great River" as well." She was silent for some moments, staring at the water. Then she turned to her father, "Would you tell me about Minas Tirith?"

Boromir couldn't help but smiling. "Haven't you grown tired of hearing about it?"

"How could I?" she replied, smiling back at him. "It's not just the city, Johnny Reb…It's you."

"Me?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah. You have a special way to talk about your city, it's pretty clear that you love it. I never grow tired of listening to you."

"You are flattering me, _Meril�s_. I'm just a Man and a warrior, I'm not a good storyteller like the Elves."

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "Your words come from the heart and they're worth more than any pretty speech." She shifted against the trunk, making herself comfortable. "Come on, tell me."

Boromir smiled. "As you wish, _Meril�s_. What do you want to hear?"

"What about the White Tower?"

Boromir smiled again and started describing to her the symbol of the city. Victoria listened to him in awe, not missing a single word.

They were still talking when another member of the Fellowship appeared. "There you are!" Legolas said, startling them for they weren't aware of his arrival. "Come: Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel wish to bid us their farewell before the Fellowship sets forth again."

Victoria let out a sigh and got to her feet unwillingly. She would have liked to disappear in the wood, but it would have definitely been an offence to the landlords, so she had no way out. 'But I really hope that this will be the last time I find myself face-to-face with MacGonagall's clone for a long, long time.'

They followed Legolas to the docks, where the gray boats were waiting for them, and after a few seconds arrived Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, followed by some Elf-maidens dressed in white who held some clothes between their hands.

Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks shield you from unfriendly eyes, Lord Celeborn said solemnly.

The maidens unfolded the gray cloaks and wrapped them around the shoulders of the nine companions, fixing them with a leaf-shaped brooch.

When Victoria saw those clothes, her face lost all its colors and she stiffened considerably, as if she had been turned into a statue. As the Elvish handmaid draped the cloak on her shoulders, she felt the urge to rip it away and tear it into pieces, but she couldn't have moved even if she had wanted to. Images of her nightmare flashed in her head. Boromir's body at her feet…and the gray cloak she wore soaked with blood, just like her sword and her hands. Her father's blood.

Lord Celeborn's voice somehow managed to reach her and awake her. "Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now patrol the Eastern shore of the Anduin…Nor will you find safety on the Western bank. Strange creatures bearing the White Hand have been seen on our borders. Seldom do the Orcs journey in the open sun, yet these have done so." He came near the leader of the Fellowship and handed him a dagger. "You are being tracked." Switching to the Common Tongue again, he added, "By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Fall of Rauros."

Lady Galadriel stepped up. "Before you leave, there are some gifts I wish to offer you in memory of Lothlorien." She started with Legolas, handing him a bow richly crafted and bigger than the one the Elf used. "My gift to you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin." The Prince of Mirkwood bowed his head, embarrassed. To Merry and Pippin she gave two daggers. "These are the daggers of Noldorin. They have already seen service in war." Then she turned to the youngest Hobbit, who was staring at his weapon doubtfully, and added, "Do not fear, young Peregrin Took: you will find your courage." She turned to the gardener. "And for you, Samwise Gamgee, Elven rope made of hithlain,"

'What's this, an instigation to commit suicide?' Victoria thought.

"Thank you, my lady…" Sam was saying. "Have you run out of those nice shiny daggers?" He blushed, realizing that he had cut out a poor figure.

Galadriel merely smiled maternally and passed him by, stopping in front of the son of Gloin. "And what gift would a dwarf ask of the Elves?"

"Nothing," Gimli replied. "Except to look upon the lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth." He coughed, embarrassed. "Actually... there was one thing.. er.. no, no I couldn't. It's quite impossible. Stupid to ask…"

"Speak, I beg of you! I don't want you to be the only guest to depart without a gift."

"Then, my Lady…In this case, if I am allowed to ask, I only wish for a hair of your golden locks," he answered, blushing crimson.

The Lady smiled. "This is a wish I can easily grant…" She cut off three blonde hairs and handed them to the dwarf, who bowed so low that his head touched the ground.

The Lady turned to Aragorn. "I have nothing greater to give than the gift you already bear," she murmured as she lightly touched the pendant he wore around his neck, her eyes full of melancholy for her granddaughter's fate. "For her love, I fear the grace of Arwen Evenstar will diminish…"

Aragorn spoke in spite of the lump clenching his throat. "I would have her leave these shores and be with her people. I would have her take the ship to Valinor."

"That choice is yet before her." She cut him off. "You have your own choice to make, Aragorn. To rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin. Namarie." Isildur's heir bowed and she lifted his chin so he would look at her in the eyes. "There is much you have yet to do. We shall not meet again, Elessar."

Then it was Boromir's turn, who received a belt of golden leaves, and finally Frodo's. "Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the light of Earendil, our most beloved star. Namarie. May it be a light for you in dark places, where all other lights go out." She handed him a phial full of a crystalline liquid, that yet wasn't water. "Namarie." Galadriel said and then bent down to kiss the Hobbit's forehead.

Victoria felt herself flaring up with anger, barely suppressing the urge to step up and punch the Elf-Queen in the face. 'Hey! What the Hell does she think she's doing!'

The Queen rose and turned to her. "But I have not forgotten the Last Slytherin."

'Damn it, I hoped so!' the girl thought, though her face remained blank.

The lady approached her. "For you I have prepared this small keepsake…" she said, taking a golden bracelet adorned with little red stones and fastening around her right wrist.

"Thank you," Victoria muttered, staring at the Gryffindor-colored jewel.

After a last speech of farewell, they got on the three boats, previously loaded with their bags and some supplies, which basically consisted of Elvish Waybread, or Lembas. Every boat could only hold three of them and a heated argument broke out between Merry, Pippin, Gimli and Victoria. Putting the witch and the Dwarf in the same boat was unthinkable, unless they wanted to make him lose his mind. It was quite clear that Victoria wouldn't have missed a chance to tease him for the crush he had on the Elvish Queen. The best resolution was sending her with Boromir, who was, in Gimli's opinion, "the only one who could put up with that holy terror." But that meant breaking apart Merry and Pippin, who would have had none of it. In the end, they had to give in: young master Brandybuck would have traveled with Legolas and Gimli.

Once this "little" problem was resolved, they went aboard.

"First Infantry, then Alpini, now in the Navy…What do you think, Frodo, next time we'll join the Air Force or the Secret Service?" Victoria remarked, trying to mask her restlessness and to wring a smile out of the Hobbit.

They slowly moved away from the bank, sailing Southward. Galadriel appeared on the shore again to wave them goodbye.

'_Turna s�_! This is a persecution!' _turna s�_: (she's) here again – Piedmontese dialect. Victoria couldn't help but thinking as she cast the lady a very unfriendly look.

The young witch kept on rowing and, as soon as the Golden Wood disappeared from their sight behind a bend of the river, let out a sigh. She turned back to her father. "Do you think you can manage it on your own for a couple of minutes, Johnny Reb?"

"Yes, but why are…"

"Thank you," she cut him off as she retrieved her paddle. Under their eyes, she started fighting against the brooch that held her cloak in place and, after a few seconds, she finally managed to unfasten it. Victoria tore the garment away form her shoulders almost hatefully and thrust it in her backpack. The bracelet followed shortly.

"What are you doing?" Legolas shouted, a note of rebuke in his voice.

"None of your business!" she replied harshly.

"The cloak was bothering you, Little Soldier?" Boromir asked to cover up for her even if he didn't understand why she was acting that way.

Victoria nodded, throwing him a look filled with gratitude.

"What about the bracelet?" Pippin asked. "Were you afraid to ruin it?"

Victoria took her paddle again and thrust it forcefully in the water. "I never liked bracelets…" she almost growled. "They cover my wrists with blisters. Especially those with Gryffindor's color."

"How weird that, with her powers, the Lady didn't know," Sam remarked.

'She knew, she knew…' Victoria thought as she rowed angrily. 'Of course she knew!'

Frodo stared silently at the clear water that flowed by grazing the sides of the gray boat. He could feel Sam's worried gaze on him, but he didn't want to turn around and meet those eyes. He was thinking about all the things the Lady had told him during their nocturnal conversation. By now he had understood: he had to leave the Fellowship. Yet, there was a part of him that didn't feel ready to take that step. After all the things they had been through together, now they were…How had Vivi called them? Oh, yes, a band of brothers. A bond as he had never known before had been created and cutting it cost him, cost him a lot.

'And then there's always her…'

His eyes fell on the young witch who rowed on the other boat. The mere thought to leave her made his heart bleed. He didn't want to leave her. If there was a bond between him and his other eight companions, the one that bound him to Victoria was twice stronger. He couldn't understand way, but that was the way it was. Maybe it was because she could understand him perfectly, maybe because he just cared for her.

'Aye, but how much do I care for her? What's the difference from what I feel for Sam or the others? All right, she is a girl, but…damn, I cannot believe I'm so taken with her! It is simply absurd! And in this situation, nonetheless…No, that is impossible. It is just because she understands me…and because she has suffered so much, that is all.' But this took him back to the main problem: would he care for her enough to leave her? 'I must do it for her as well. If I stay, the Ring will hurt her…in a way or another.' He turned his gaze on Boromir, who shared the boat with her. Personally, he had never liked much the warrior. But Victoria was very close to him: if the Ring had won, she would have suffered…And he couldn't allow it. Even if he knew that she was perfectly able to defend herself on her own, he always felt this strange urge to protect her, to console her…But he never followed it.

He resumed to watching her, wondering if he should tell her Galadriel's warning against the Man of Minas Tirith.


	21. Chapter XXI: Ten Days

Hello everybody, sorry if I didn't update for a long time, but I'm moving and I am stuck without internet until June – maybe even July. I'm currently using one of the computers at school, and let me say one thing: I thought my computer was slow – then I tried this one!

Arami: offended? Believe me, I'm definitely not! Thank you very, very much for you comment. It made me really happy and I'm glad you liked my character. About the Slytherins, you understood exactly what I meant to say. For Boromir, I'll do my best not to let him die, but it's really up to him. About the second version, I reposted it only because I'm having troubles with inverted commas and italic paragraphs and I wanted to see if had solved it. Looks like it hasn't…Sorry

CHAPTER XXI: TEN DAYS

This part of the journey was, at least, a little less tiresome than the previous ones. Sometimes they let the boats be carried by the stream, giving an oarstroke here and there. However, that wasn't by any means a relaxing cruise: most of them were sad for they had had to leave the Golden Wood and the sorrow for Gandalf's death hovered above them like a dark cloud. The loss of the wizard had been heavily felt; it had took hope away from them and given only pain in return. Now the fate of the Fellowship rested on Aragorn's shoulders, but he wasn't sure of the road they should take, in every sense. Their quest seemed desperate now more than ever, but they couldn't allow themselves to give in. It was hard to hope and believe, but they had to keep on going.

As the sun sank down in the West, they came back to the mainland, setting a camp for the night after inspecting carefully the surroundings. They weren't into the safe borders of Lorien anymore.

Boromir lingered on the riverbank, watching the water run down toward his country. He bent down to take a flat stone and slowly straightened himself back, rubbing the pebble between his fingers to clean it from the dirt. He threw it into the river almost thoughtlessly and the pebble skipped on the water a couple of times before sinking down. He was about to throw another one when a voice stopped him, "Didn't you learn anything from Moria?"

He turned toward Victoria, who watched him with a tiny smile on her lips. "I doubt that we will found monsters like that one in this river," Boromir replied. A movement behind the girl's shoulders caught his eye: Pippin was crouched by his cousin Merry's side, with slumped shoulders and low eyes full of tears. The girl followed Boromir's gaze and bit down on her lower lip. "Oh."

She moved as if to go to the Hobbit and apologize, but the Man gently held her back. "Let him be, it's better. There is already someone who is taking care of him," he added nodding toward the young lord of Buckland, who had wrapped a comforting arm around his cousin's shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Victoria murmured, lowering her head. "I didn't think about…"

"You don't have to worry. Sometimes it happens," he sighed and threw the second pebble, which bounced three times.

Another weak smile bloomed on Victoria's lips. "How can you do it? I've never managed it…"

"No?"

She shook her head. "Adrian, Mark and Draco did it any time. They used to bounce pebbles on the lake just to annoy a little the giant squid when they had nothing better to do, but I've never learnt how to do it."

Boromir smiled softly. "Come here, I'll teach you." He carefully chose a flat pebble and handed it to her.

"What now?" she asked doubtfully.

The warrior moved to stand behind her, guiding her. "Now you take you arm back like this, and throw it without casting it away as you move your wrist like this…Here, now try." He took a step back not to get in her way and she shot. The pebble bounced two times on the clear water, then went to the bottom.

"Hurray!" the girl cried out, jumping and clapping her hands out of joy. Boromir watched her with an amused smile.

"I can't see what's so exceptional about that…" Legolas remarked, grinning.

Victoria turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Oh, shut up, Radar! That's the first time I've succeeded after trying for six years and I can't see why I shouldn't celebrate, Mr. Perfect," she shot back playfully.

"You had been trying that for six years?" Boromir asked, astonished.

"Well…It's not as if I had been training day and night," she smiled happily. "Come on, let's see who can reach the highest number of bounces!"

This kind of contest didn't last but a few minutes, but the two Humans had fun like they hadn't had in a long time. Boromir was, obviously, the winner, with an unrepeatable six-skipping throw.

Victoria applauded. "Congratulations! That was fantastic!"

He shrugged his shoulders. "My brother and I used to do it when we were children." A veil of sadness fell on his eyes. "Who knows how is he now…I haven't seen him for months."

Victoria was an only child and had never considered Mark and Adrian as her brothers, yet she knew that look. She had seen it in the eyes of Third-Year Sarah Kelso when her little sister Caroline had come to Hogwarts right in that cursed year…And even if she didn't want to admit it, she had also seen it in the eyes of that total moron of Blaise Zabini – one of those who had spread rumors about Draco's evil influence – when he looked at his sister Gemma. "Younger brother, eh?"

Boromir nodded. "Aye. He and I are very close…"

"Is he in Minas Tirith now?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure, I haven't seen him since I left my city. Maybe he is there or maybe is fighting in Ithilien, I cannot know for sure." He let out a sigh full of worry. "I just hope that he's fine."

Victoria laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sure he is."

Boromir raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Hey, he's your brother!" she replied, slapping him on his shoulder. "He's no ordinary fool. Whether in Minas Tirith or in Ithillen, I'm sure he's okay."

"Ithilien," he corrected her.

"Oh, sorry, Ithilien. By the way, where is that place?"

Boromir explained briefly where it was located. "…It was the most beautiful and fertile region of Gondor, before the Shadow slipped in."

"So it's in the hands of the enemy?" Victoria asked.

"Not exactly. It hasn't been completely conquered yet and there are soldiers of Gondor that still fight there."

"It's practically the front line, isn't it?"

"Exactly," Boromir nodded. For a moment, his worries swallowed him up again.

"Hey." He felt Victoria's warm hand grazing his own. "I'm sure he's fine." She came near him. "Don't you worry too much. Everything will be okay."

Boromir smiled at her as he caressed her hair. "I should comfort you…" he murmured "…and instead it's the other way around."

"But you're a great comfort to me!" she replied, hugging him and snuggling close. "I love you, _édnie_. Sometimes I don't know where I'd be without you…"

"It happens to me too, _Merilìs_. It happens to me too."

They walked back to the others. Boromir had an arm wrapped around her waist and Victoria leaned on his shoulder. She felt safe. She felt like the innocent little girl she had once been.

In the daylight, the Fellowship kept on sailing down the river, stopping on the banks just at nightfall. They ate there and decided the watches. They didn't go to sleep immediately after that and, even if they were tired, they lingered there sitting close to each other, silently trying to get some comfort from their closeness.

The third sun had set since they had left the Golden Wood behind. Even if they had already dined and assigned the watches, no one wanted to go to sleep. Sitting in the dark, they waited. Often, Boromir would glance anxiously in a certain direction. Finally, they heard a rustling of leaves and Victoria came out into the clearing.

"That was about time!" Legolas remarked. Victoria shook her shoulders impatiently but didn't reply.

"You shouldn't have been gone for such a long time," Aragorn scolded her a little.

"Traveling or not, Sunday is always Sunday," Victoria said back.

Isildur's heir sighed and shook his head. He already knew that this was a lost battle. They retired to their pallets and soon all were asleep…All but the sentry.

Boromir sat by the river, wide awake. His senses were strained to catch even the faintest sound or the smallest movement, but his mind was full of worry. He thought about his menaced city, about his people that had faith in him…Would he be able to help them, since the legitimate heir to the throne didn't want to? He would have done anything to prevent Gondor's downfall. But there was something else. Since they had left Lothlorien, the Ring's voice had started pushing his way into his mind again. Ignoring it was getting more and more difficult: every day, every hour, every minute it was there, it never stopped. He thought about the potion Victoria had given him some days ago, but he couldn't use it, it was too dangerous. Those shores weren't safe as the Golden Wood.

Suddenly, he realized that his gaze had fallen on the Ring Bearer. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized it. He turned his gaze on the person sleeping beside the Halfling. Victoria. His _Merilìs_. He had dedicated his whole life to the protection of Gondor, placing the safety of his beloved country above everything else, even above his own life. But often he had felt void, incomplete… At least before he met Torey.

He knew he couldn't be a good husband. He had always refused to marry because of this and also because he knew that sooner or later his constant being on the front-line would have cost him his own life. He had had to announce the deaths of his men to their wives too many times to inflict such a pain on an hypothetic spouse.

In spite of that, he had often wondered what kind of parent he could have been: his father hadn't exactly set a good example. Then Torey had come into his life. He had always thought that his Country held such a big part of his heart that he wouldn't be able to love a wife and children as they deserved, but now it looked like he had undervalued himself.

He watched the peaceful face of the sleeping girl. She wasn't his daughter, yet he loved her as he loved Gondor and his brother, who was his own flesh and blood. He would have done anything to see her happy and to protect her.

Suddenly, he remembered a story Victoria had read a long time before in a book and had told them on the Caradhras to keep them awake. It was about a young girl who had been killed and, among the other things, it also told how her death had been the cause of the breaking of her family. He shuddered when he thought that the book was called "Daddy's Little Girl**1**." In the end, if something had happened to Victoria, he was sure that Fellowship would break up just like that imaginary family. He had noticed that she was doing her best to keep them united, to ease their pain and their worries.

'Who knows where we would be without her.'

No, he must not think about that book, he must not think about how he would have felt if he had lost his child.

He sighed. The closer they came to Mordor, the harder the journey would become. Victoria was a proud and stubborn girl, but it would have been hard for her to carry on all alone. He had to make sure that he would be by her side whatever happened. After all, he was her father.

Boromir stood up and moved to sit down by her side. Victoria kept on sleeping peacefully. She was smiling in her sleep, maybe she was dreaming. He caressed her hair lovingly as he thought about a song quite pretty she had sung once, he couldn't remember if it had been on the Caradhras or before that… The song talked about a boy and his hard life and the chorus was a prayer of his mother. He murmured those words in the night, slightly changing them, maybe praying to the Valar for his Morning Star as he looked toward Gondor and thought about the day they would finally be there.

_Gondor, give this child a home_

_give her the love of a good family and a boy of her own_

_give her a fire in her heart, give her a light in her eyes_

_give her a wild wind for a brother from the wild Gondor skies_**2**

Torey surely deserved that. She deserved to find peace and a home. He sat by her side caressing her hair and, as he watched her sleep, he couldn't help but thinking, "If it wasn't for her…"

During the sixth night, as he lay in the dark half-asleep, Frodo heard Boromir and Aragorn arguing again, their voices low not to wake up the others.

"Are you still convinced that this is the right road?" the first asked.

"Gandalf had personally chosen this trail," the other replied. "And then, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had approved it. We will follow this road **_whatever happens_**, did I make myself clear?" he added sharply.

"Crystal." Boromir muttered. "I just hope that you know what you are doing." He pinned the Ranger's gaze with his own. "Be careful, Aragorn: I have already lost too many people I held dear in this war, I have no intention to lose my daughter as well!"

Aragorn stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "Your daughter?"

Boromir nodded firmly. "Yes. My daughter." He turned around, glaring at him over his shoulder. "Pray that nothing will happen, neither to her, nor to the little ones."

Frodo lay still and silent, considering what he had heard. He remembered Galadriel's warning and turned on his side, watching the unaware girl who slept nearby. 'So beautiful and so sad…' He thought as he gently grazed her cheek with a finger. Victoria shifted in her sleep and he hurriedly took his hand away, but didn't stop watching her. Finally, he closed his eyes and prayed silently. 'Elbereth Lady of the Stars, Ilùvatar Lord of the Universe and Christ Savior, to you I offer my prayer. Please, watch over Victoria, do not let her heart be broken again and give her no reason to cry again.' He squeezed his eyes shut not to let his teardrops fall as he thought about all the things that had happened to her and her voice when she spoke of them. 'I beg of you, listen to my plea. She has suffered enough…she has suffered enough.'

He hoped that at least one of the divinities he had turned to would listen to him, even if he was only a small Hobbit. If not the Gods who governed Middle Earth, at least that God Victoria believed in.

As the sun went down for the seventh time, the boats drew near the shore and their occupants started getting out. Legolas, as usual, jumped down first, scanning the area with his eyes.

Even during the dinner, his eyes didn't stop bolting from one point to another. If a single blade of grass moved, he knew. Suddenly, his eyes met Victoria's and he realized that the girl had been staring at him silently for all that time. He immediately looked away, trying to look at ease. But it wasn't all that easy.

That night, he had the first watch. He stood near the camp with his weapons at hand's reach, his eyes piercing the darkness of the night. "I heard you, Vicky," he said suddenly, without turning around.

The girl caught up with him, standing by his side and shaking her head. "Can you see now why I call you Radar?"

"Surely you are not here to discuss my nickname…" He replied, turning to her. …are you? 

She sighed, staring straight ahead. "What's wrong with you, Legolas?" She murmured. "I've seen how you look around, how you're always on your guard… She turned to him. I've never seen you like this before." She waited, but the Elf didn't speak and kept on staring at the forest around them. "Legolas…" Victoria insisted "…is there anything I should know?"

He let out a sigh, "I do not know, Victoria. Truly, I do not know." He shook his head. "I can't but think about Lord Celeborn's words…about those strange Orcs he talked about."

"He said that they bear the White Hand…" she whispered. "What does that mean?"

A troubled sigh. "The white hand is the symbol of Saruman the White, the most powerful Istari."

"The traitor," Victoria cut shot.

"That's him. He probably worked his magic upon those creatures…and I fear that we will discover it all too soon."

The girl bit down on her lower lip, but didn't speak. They stood watch together, surrounded by the noises of the night.

"Have a nice watch, Radar," she said finally, lightly patting him on his arm and going back to bed.

Frodo sat with his back against a tree trunk. Only two days and they would reach the falls of Rauros. He watched his fellow-travelers: Sam was cooking their dinner, Legolas chatted with Gimli, Aragorn was checking on their supplies and Merry and Pippin were watching Victoria and Boromir as they dueled, impatiently waiting for their turn. And not one of them could suspect what he was plotting… He thought about all the things they had been through together: the journey from the Shire to Bree, then Weathertop, Rivendell, their journey Southwards along the mountains and their try to pass through the Caradhras, the mines of Moria – at that thought his eyes filled with tears – and the way to Lothlorien. All together. But he had to follow his road on his own, even if it was hard.

He was startled out of his reverie when somebody dropped on the ground beside him.

"You're so silent today…" Victoria remarked, getting as comfortable as she could. "What's up with you, Frodo?" She asked him in a lower, sweeter voice.

The Hobbit shook his head, 2Nothing. I'm just tired." He didn't look at her, pretending to follow the duel between his cousins and Boromir.

Victoria stared at him silently. Since they had left Lothlorien, eight days before, Frodo had become quite melancholic, as if a burden weighed on his heart and on his conscience. She didn't know what had caused it: Gandalf's loss, the Ring…or a certain conversation he had had with a certain Elf Queen in the middle of the night. She had heard everything – at least everything they had said out loud. She was sure that the harpy had talked to him telepathically using her powers, but she had no way to discover what they had said. Trying to make Frodo confess it would have been like trying to prove the Gryffindors' involvement in the slaughter of April 30th: impossible, useless and frustrating, she knew it from experience. And then, she risked to send him away, maybe even lose him. As long as it was up to her, she would have done anything not to let it happen. After all, Frodo was the main reason why she had wanted to go with them at all costs. She took a cigarette from the crumpled packet and lit it up, uselessly trying to smoke away her worries.

Another day had gone by. The night was dark, the stars couldn't be seen. Eight companions sat side by side.

"Do you think that it will rain tomorrow?" Pippin asked as he looked at the sky, speaking to no one in particular.

"No, I do not think so…" Legolas answered.

Aragorn came back from the riverbank, sitting down beside him. "Tomorrow we will reach the Falls of Rauros," he announced.

Frodo nodded briefly as he kept on staring at the ground, his eyes lost far away.

Victoria looked at the river that flowed peacefully. Slowly, she pulled out of her pocket the packet of cigarettes. There was only one left and she knew, but it didn't matter. She took it out and lit it up, taking a deep drag. She puffed out a little bit of smoke without tearing her eyes away from the dark water. Not a single light was reflected upon it.

1: Mary Higgins Clark, Daddy's Little Girl.

2: John Denver, "Wild Montana Skies." I've just changed the personal pronouns from male to female and swap "woman" with "boy."


	22. Chapter XXII: Come Undone

I know I've been slacking off a lot… Unfortunately, I'm moving right now and in the past months I didn't have Internet since we were forced to stay in a small apartment we rented and said apartment didn't have a phone. I'm stuck with school computers – I thought mine was slow and all, but those are even worse!

I'm really sorry…I'm pretty sure most people have lost interest and stopped reading. I apologize again.

Arami: Why should I be offended by your suggestion? Your review really made my day! I'm really glad you told me all you felt about Victoria and Slytherins. Thanks again! As for Galadriel's bracelet – I haven't thought about that, I swear. That was just a random scene that popped into my mind while I was writing the chapter.

Unfortunately, I can't promise anything about Boromir – my characters tend to do whatever they want to. Boromir and Victoria weren't even supposed to get along so well when I started imagining this story, but…It simply happened.

Er…I hope you didn't read it twice. I'm having troubles with and inverted commas. I update twice to experiment a bit..

Lothliana: Actually, it was your review that coaxed me into updating as soon as I could- which means as soon as I'll get my hands on a computer. Thank you for shaking me out of my laziness. I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter – I'm sure here you'll find the answer to your question…

CHAPTER XXII: COME UNDONE

The next day, they went back aboard earlier than usual, rowing vigorously. The water was covered with a faint heat mist. The only sound was the paddles cutting through the waters of the Great River, the shores looked like distant ghosts. Victoria started singing, minding to keep her voice low, but even the Scottish ballad sounded sad in that gray morning.

"_Oh, you'll take the high road and I'll take the low,_

_and I'll be in Scotland before you,_

_but me and my true love never meet again_

_on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond._"

When the song ended, she did not start another one. She remained silent even when the fog was chased away by the sunrise.

The river ran through between two huge, perpendicular and impressive walls of rock. Then, after a bend, two enormous statues appeared, one on each riverbank like pillars of a gate. They looked like they were watching over everything with their eyes of stone. They were a breath-taking sight and their sense of solemnity and impressiveness was highlighted by the presence of the hawk flying in front of them.

"Frodo, the Argonath…" Aragorn murmured, staring at the faces of the statues. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old, my kin."

In the other boat, Victoria let out an appreciative whistle. "Wow…"

When they passed the statues, a great lake spread in front of them. On the other side, they could see the sprinklings of water, as white as clouds, from the Falls of Rauros. By the time they reached the shore, it was late in the morning.

"Are you okay?" Victoria asked to Boromir as he helped her get down from the boat.

"Not really…But don't you worry, I can do it," the warrior nodded, avoiding her gaze.

The girl took his hand. "You sure?" He nodded. "Ookay…" She put down her back pack and took something wrapped in a white-and-green scarf out of it. "Do I have half an hour?" she asked Aragorn.

"I think so, why?" He asked back.

"You see, Billy Yank…" she closed her backpack and stood up. "Today it's Sunday."

He frowned, "So, you are going to pray?"

"Exactly." Seeing the two Men and the Elf's dark faces, she added, "What's wrong?"

"Can't you do it here?" her father asked.

"Guys, we've already talked about this and more than once, too. I need some privacy. Please…"

Aragorn sighed. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. "Fine. But do not go too far,"

"And be careful!" Boromir added.

"Don't you worry." She started walking away, but before she entered the forest, Legolas stopped her by gently catching her by the arm. "Yeah?" 

"I just wanted to tell you not to let your guard down and come back as soon as you can."

"I will," she replied with a light pat on his arm. Then she left, closely followed by her hawk.

Legolas followed her with his eyes until the trees hid her from his view. He was worried and he wasn't the only one who felt like that. About a quarter of hour later, Boromir stood up and quietly walked into the woods. He needed to ponder on a few things and wanted look for Victoria. He didn't want her to be all alone, it could be too dangerous. Duke wasn't certainly enough to help her, should trouble arise.

"What are we waiting for, Aragorn?" Pippin asked.

"The sunset," the Ranger replied, unloading some bags. "We shall cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot. We will approach Mordor from the North."

"Oh yes?" Gimli spoke up polemically. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see!"

"That is our road," Aragorn replied firmly. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my…! Umpf!" he grunted, offended.

Legolas came near the leader of the Fellowship. "We should leave now."

"No. Orcs patrol Eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."

"It is not the Eastern shore that worries me…" The Elf murmured, letting his gaze wander between the trees. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind." He turned to look the other in the eyes. "Something draws near, I can feel it."

Meanwhile, Gimli kept on muttering under his breath like a pot of beans. "No Dwarf need recover strength! Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit!" He said to Merry, who had just came back from the forest, carrying a faggot of wood. The Hobbit looked around, worried. He had a strange feeling, as if something or somebody was missing… Suddenly, he realized what – or rather who – it was. "Where is Frodo?"

When he heard those words, Sam, who had dozed off, woke up immediately.

Out of instinct, Aragorn turned to the spot where Boromir had been resting a few minutes ago: now it was empty. Against the trunk of the big tree leaned his big, round shield, from which he had never parted before.

The wood was so silent, Frodo's own breathing seemed too loud. As he walked on between the huge fallen statues, on a carpet of withered leaves, he kept on repeating to himself that he had walked away just to clear his mind…Just to find the courage to leave for good. After all, that was like a 'dress rehearsal.'

'The problem is not leaving the camp unseen…is finding the strength not to go back.'

But that was hard, terribly hard. As soon as he had thought that, he had seen their faces dancing in front of his eyes. He had seen Merry and Pippin and Sam…and Victoria. A voice caught him off guard. "None of us should wander alone, you least of all."

He turned around swiftly, staring at the Man of Minas Tirith. Boromir was a few meters away and was gazing at the forest around them. He turned toward him for a moment, then he turned back toward the forest, looking for something he couldn't find. "Did you see Victoria?"

Frodo shook his head, but since the other wasn't looking at him he had to answer out loud. "No, I did not see her."

"And she said that she wouldn't have gone too far away from the camp! He shook his head. "When I find her, she shall hear about this!"

Frodo kept on watching him warily. He knew that the Man was truly worried…But a part of him warned him to be on his guard and suggested to himself to get away from there as fast as he could.

Victoria hurriedly strode through the thicket. She hadn't realized that she had walked that far. She glanced at her watch and discovered that she had been away for almost an hour. The girl quickened her pace, though she wasn't anxious to receive the lecture that was surely waiting for her at the camp. She pushed the branches of a bush out of her way. "Here I am! So, did you…" the rest of her sentence died in her throat. "Guys?"

No one answered. The clearing was empty.

She looked around, confused. Her heart started hammering in her chest, but she tried to keep her self-control and ponder calmly on the situation. There were no signs of a fight, and that was a good thing to begin with. Somebody else, in her place, might have thought that the others, worried by her long absence, had gone to look for her, but Victoria didn't think she was so important – and truth to be told, she undervalued herself. She didn't know what had happened exactly, but the first thing that had come into her head had been a single name, 'Frodo…'

She thought she heard a distant voice…Then she turned around and ran into the forest.

Victoria didn't know what or who she was looking for, but she could feel a thin, icy chill of fear in her soul.

A low noise caught her attention. She raised her gaze and saw her hawk roosted on a branch. "Duke, help me…"

That was enough: the hawk took off and flew high above the threes, watching the ground with his sharp eyes.

Victoria didn't know how long she had been walking between the trees, how long she had been searching in vain before Duke came back and guided her to the ruins of a great statue. There, leaning against the white marble, there was a man with his head hung low.

"Daddy…" She whispered.

Hearing her voice, Boromir raised his gaze but then dropped it down immediately. Victoria stood between the trees surrounded by the sunrays, confused and lost, the silver coronet he had given her shone upon her head…but he did not feel worthy to look at her, to be called her father. His sin was too grave.

Victoria knelt down in front of him, uselessly trying to meet his eyes. "Daddy, what happened? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, _Merilìs_…I'm so sorry," he murmured. "It was all my fault!"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, astonished. "Did you see Frodo?"

"I saw him…" Boromir answered dejectedly. "Unfortunately, I saw him."

In that moment, Victoria understood. "The Ring…" she murmured with half a sigh.

The warrior of Minas Tirth lowered his head, as if he wanted to disappear from her sight.

Victoria closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she forced her father to look at her. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was! I should have…" She cut him off.

"You've done your best. You resisted until the end." She grasped his arm. "No one could have done more. It wasn't your fault."

Boromir shook his head. "I cannot believe it, Victoria." He raised his hands behind his neck to unfasten the cross he wore. "Take it back. I betrayed your trust, my people and the others, because of me the quest will fail…I cannot be called your father."

"Stop saying these idiocies!" She replied, pushing back the hand that offered her the cross. "Listen, you can't know what will happen. None of us can. And nobody says that the quest is doomed to fail. Frodo still has the Ring, let's not give it all up for lost." She fastened back the chain around his neck and grazed the crucifix. "Have faith, daddy…" She raised her gaze and met Boromir's eyes.

"I cannot understand you, Victoria…" He murmured. "Why do you keep on calling me father? Why do you insist on staying by my side if I failed?"

Victoria took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his own. "Because you are my father and I love you. Because I'm a Slytherin and not a damned Gryffindor. Because I'm not an Elf, but a human being just like you…and I know that if I had been in your place, surely I'd have sunk long ago."

"That's not true, your heart is strong…it didn't answer the Ring's call," he argued.

"Neither did yours." She ran her hands through her hair. "Can't you see it? I don't answer only 'cause the Ring **_doesn't call me_**!" She gripped his shoulders. "You carry the responsibility of a country devastated by war when I live of past and present…The Ring **_knows_** that there's nothing he could offer me." She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close. "I love you, daddy…and there's no one else in the world I would have in your place."

Though hesitantly, Boromir hugged her back. "I'm sorry, _Merilìs_…"

"It doesn't matter. As long as we keep on fighting, everything will be fine. And then…" she swallowed hard. "I should apologize to you, not the contrary."

He pulled her back a little, just enough to look at her face. "You? What are you talking about?"

"I should have been closer to you. I should have done better…" Her eyes started filling with angry tears. "I should have helped you, not burdened you."

"You have never been a burden to me, _Merilìs_…If it had not been for you and the little ones, probably I would have fallen a long time ago. You are not to blame yourself for what happened."

"We should have known…" the girl murmured, burying her head against his shoulder. "…that that scum attacks only by treachery." She held him a little bit tighter. "Remember, dad: even angels sometimes fall down, but it's just to fly higher than ever."

Boromir took her face between his hands. "You are my angel, Torey," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "You are my little girl, my little soldier, my morning star. If it wasn't for you…"

Victoria forced an half-smile, very embarrassed.

They stood up.

"I must beg Frodo's forgiveness…I hope he will understand."

"He will, he will…" Victoria reassured him.

Boromir lowered his gaze. "I hope you are right about this, Victoria…and about the rest too." He held her hand between his own. "For now, your forgiveness is more than I deserve."

The girl sighed exasperatedly. "We'll talk about this again…Now let's go back to the others."

They had taken but a few steps that they stopped dead in their tracks. The forest, silent and peaceful until a few minutes before, now echoed with bestial shouts, the clamor of swords resounded far away, the ground shook. Boromir instinctively turned to Victoria, who stood a few steps behind him. The young witch was pale and scared. "What's going on?"

"I do not know…But the others need us," he replied unsheathing his sword. For a moment he considered ordering her to stay hidden where they were now, but then she would have never obeyed such a command and, after all, that place wasn't **_really_** safe…and he would not have her leave his sight for a minute, or he wouldn't be able to help her and protect her.

"Let's go. Stay close to me and be very careful, understood?"

"Yes, dad."

And off they went.


	23. Chapter XXIII: Decisions

Hopewithin: Hello Olwyen:waves: It's nice to see a long-time reviewer. :hugs Olwyen/Hopewithin: I like your new nick, it's lovely. I'm glad beyond words for your compliments, you relay made me blush.

Ailias Kurai: sir yes sir! Er…probably it's not the update you were waiting for, but…

On Monday morning I'll be leaving for Ireland – I'll be back in August.

What do you think, should I post the whole story (two chapters to go) before leaving?

CHAPTER XXIII: DECISIONS

Frodo ran between the trees and the statues, invisible to any human eye thanks to the One Ring. He ran and he felt like shouting, crying, breaking something…possibly said ring.

When Boromir had raised his voice and caught him by the shoulders, the Hobbit had decided that he had lingered long enough and had put on the Ring, running away before the situation could get even worse.

As he ran through the shadows, he had heard Boromir cry his name and say he was sorry…but he couldn't stop, nor he could go back, even if it was not fear that pushed him onward. He remembered Galadriel's warning and Victoria's face on the Caradhras as she told him to forgive him, that it wasn't his fault…But Frodo did know that.

'Galadriel was right! I cannot go back to the others, I must leave the Fellowship…'

He thought about Torey's face when one day, at the beginning of their journey, she had talked about her father Jeremy Cross. He thought about the light in her eyes at the end of a duel, when Boromir had told Aragorn that she was a good pupil as he caressed her hair. He thought about all the things she had been through, about the pain she'd feel when she discovered what had happen and all the pain the Ring could still give her.

'I must leave, I must stay away from her. If I love her, I must leave!'

He didn't realize that he had used the strong verb "to love" instead of the neuter and pale "to care for" he had resorted to until that very moment.

The Ring Bearer peered up from his hiding place and he thought he saw a tower of black rocks getting closer and closer at incredible speed. The ground rose upwards, higher and higher, carrying him up…And suddenly he found himself right in front of the great blazing eye! The heat of the flames surrounded him and did not let him breathe, the thin pupil stared at him menacingly…He grasped the Ring with his right hand, trying to take it off, and backed away. Suddenly, the ground disappeared under his feet and he started falling, followed by Sauron's gaze…Then, the Ring came off. The tower and the eye disappeared, trees and rocks were real and definite again, not blurred ghosts. He landed heavily on the ground, but he didn't suffer any serious injury since he had fallen from a kind of platform, not from a hundred meters of height. The Hobbit got to his feet slowly, breathing heavily.

"Frodo…"

A voice said his name, startling him. He turned around and saw Aragorn standing a few meters away. "It has…It has almost taken Boromir," Frodo explained.

The Ranger frowned. "Where is the Ring?" he asked, taking a step toward him.

Frodo backed away. "Stay away!"

"Frodo!" Aragorn called as he followed him. "I swore to protect you…"

"Can you protect me from yourself?" The Man, struck by his question, did not answer. Frodo slowly opened his right hand, where he held the Ring. "Would you destroy it?" he asked again.

Aragorn approached slowly. From the Ring came a sort of hiss. Frodo stood still. Isildur's Heir came near and reached for the One Ring, then closed the chosen Ring Bearer's fingers around it as he knelt down in front of him. "I would have gone with you to the end…into the very fires of Mordor." He murmured as he made the Hobbit lay his hand against his chest, then he lowered his own hands.

"I know…"

'As I know that you know what I am about to do…and that you understand…'

"Look after the others. Especially Sam, he will not understand…and keep an eye on Torey, too."

Aragorn threw his eyes open wide and got to his feet quickly. His gaze had caught a certain glow coming from the Hobbit's belt. "Go, Frodo!" He told him as he unsheathed his sword.

The Ring Bearer lowered his eyes on his own weapon, unsheathing it a little from its scabbard: Sting glowed with a blue light, just like in Moria. He raised his gaze on Aragorn.

"Run. Run!" the Man urged him.

Frodo sheathed his sword and ran down the hill. Aragorn came out in the open clearing by the stone building. In front of him was a multitude of horrible, huge monsters armed with swords and sharp shields. On their dark bodies stood out the white hand of Isengard. Aragorn raised his sword in front of his face and kept on advancing toward them. Growling, the fiends attacked.. The Ranger threw himself against them, trying to stop as many as he could.

Sam Gamgee, unaware of what was going on, wandered among the trees, calling out his friend's name. The only answer he got was silence. Suddenly, he heard the clashing of swords. His blood froze in his veins. He started running.

Frodo was running down the hill as fast as he could, followed by the sounds of the fight and the shouts of the Uruk-hais. He could not stop, nor look back. He stumbled and fell, seeing Saruman's creatures behind him and Aragorn who was desperately trying to stop them or at least to slow them down…The Hobbit got to his feet and hid behind a tree. Some Uruks ran ahead without seeing him. But he was seen by his two younger cousins, who had hidden behind a fallen trunk.

"Frodo!" Pippin called him in a low voice. "Hide here, quick! Come on!"

By his side, Merry motioned for him to hurry up and reach them…But Frodo did not move and kept on staring at them.

"What's he doing?" the youngest asked, not understanding his strange behavior.

Frodo shook his head. As he watched his cousin's face and his eyes, Meriadoc Brandybuck suddenly understood everything. "He's leaving…" he murmured almost disbelievingly.

It took Pippin some seconds to fully realize what was happening. "NO!" he shouted, stepping out from their shelter and marching toward his cousin, turning a deaf hear to his best friend's call, who had to follow him if he wanted to stop him.

High upon the hill appeared some Uruks. Merry looked at them, looked at his cousin and then, turning to the brutes, started yelling and waving his arms. "Hey, you, over here!"

"Hey!" Pippin echoed.

They ran away, the beasts at their heels. Frodo watched them go, praying to the Valar to protect his cousins, then he sneaked in the opposite direction. He headed to the lake, leaving everything and everyone behind his shoulders: his friends, his cousins…Victoria. But, as Galadriel had said, to bear a ring of power was to be alone. He kept on running, choking back his tears.

Frodo reached the shore and stopped by the gray boats. He looked at the other bank, covered with woods and hills. The road that would have taken him to Mordor started there. He would have taken it on his own. The faces of his companions came back into his mind and a teardrop escaped from his clear blue eyes, then another followed its trail. He felt the cold circle of the Ring hanging from the chain on the palm of his hand. If only that cursed Ring had never existed, if only it had never come to him…And suddenly, he heard the answer Gandalf had given him the last time had had made a similar wish. "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." He could hear it loud and clear, as if his old friend had been by his side repeating it again.

Frodo clenched his fist around the Ring and shoved It into his pocket, pushed a boat into the water and jumped in, then he started rowing toward the opposite shore. That was his road and he would follow it. There was no more time to hesitate.

He heard somebody approaching and then the voice of his faithful gardener. Frodo, no! Sam was shouting. "Frodo! Frodo!"

"No, Sam…" Frodo murmured without turning back.

Sam stood still in the water that reached his knees, then started marching onward. "Go back, Sam," Frodo ordered, trying to look stern and keep his voice from shaking. "I'm going to Mordor alone!"

"Of course you are," he replied firmly. "And I'm coming with you!"

"You can't swim!" Frodo reminded him, but that was not enough to stop the brave – not to say stubborn – Hobbit. Sam kept on going and when the water became too deep, he tried to swim like he had seen Mr. Meriadoc doing a lot of times. "Sam…" Frodo said worriedly, seeing he was having an hard time. The gardener groped and disappeared under the surface. "Sam!" Frodo shouted.

But Sam could not hear him anymore. He struggled to resurface, but his clothes had become heavy as stones, he felt his lungs burning and his strength slowly leaving him…The sunlight had never looked so far away. He heard the sound of an arm cutting through the water, a hand grabbed his wrist and he held tight to it with all his might. A second later, he had reached the surface and his master was half-helping him and half-dragging him on the boat.

"I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise!" Sam said as soon as he managed to get his breath back. "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee, and I don't mean to. I don't mean to…"

"Oh, Sam…" Frodo whispered, his eyes full of tears as he threw his arms around his neck. After a few moments, they broke the brotherly embrace that had comforted both of them. "Come on," Frodo murmured and Sam nodded, grasping a row.

They started rowing toward the shore. But before he sunk his paddle in the water, in spite of his good intentions, Frodo turned back. 'Vivi is still there, somewhere in the forest…Who knows what she is doing…' He let out a sigh. 'Elbereth Lady of the Stars, protect her and make her be all right.' With a last glance furtively cast over his shoulder, he bid his silent farewell to Victoria Cross of the Lost House of Slytherin.


	24. Chapter XXIV: Broken Arrow

I decided not to leave you hanging on any longer. So here there are the last chapters.

CHAPTER XXIV: BROKEN ARROW

Author's note: "Broken arrow" in code language can be used in two different situations: to say that a nuclear bomb has gone missing or that **_a military unit in grave danger is requesting the maximum help possible. _**

Merry and Pippin threw themselves down the hill closely followed by the Uruk-hai, acting as baits so Frodo would be able to continue his mission.

"It's working!" Pippin remarked, glancing over his own shoulder.

"I know it's working, RUN!" Merry shouted, trying to run faster.

Frodo was safe now, but who would have saved the two of them?

They stopped dead in their tracks, petrified with fear, when they saw other Orcs coming down the hill in front of them. They were surrounded.

An Orc threw himself against them brandishing an axe, but as soon as he was less then two feet away from the Halflings he was hit by an electrical discharge and Boromir ran him through with his sword. Meanwhile, Victoria hit another Orc with a Lightning.

Father and daughter fought side by side desperately with all their might. Victoria had even invoked the Thirty Slytherins, allowing her soul to join forces with the other Twenty-nine, but it was the first time she tried such a thing and she didn't know how to avail herself of that completely. The enemy was more terrible than they had thought even in their darkest previsions. Not only were they huge, monstrous and unaffected by the sunlight, but they also were cruel, merciless, tireless, resistant…and above all, a lot. Boromir was almost surrounded and Victoria, in spite of her new and stronger powers, could barely keep them at bay both with her sword and her spells. Alone, they did not stand a chance. Boromir threw his knife against one of the fiends, who had tried to stab his daughter in the back as she fought off another one, and barely managed to parry the blow of another.

Victoria parried the blow of the Uruk-hai and managed to push him back for a couple of steps, just in time to aim her wand at him. "_Expelliarmus_!"

The sword flew away from the hands of the enemy, who tried to launch himself at the girl and crush her with his arm of steel, but with a quick movement Victoria thrust her sword in his chest.

At the same time, Boromir's sword sliced the throat of another beast.

The sword of an Orc aiming at the girl's chest was barely dodged and cut the sleeve of the shirt and the dark skin.

Boromir brought the Horn of Gondor to his lips and blew.

Higher on the hill, Legolas was shooting arrow after arrow against the enemy. Gimli's axe and Aragorn's sword had never drunk so muck blood.

An Uruk-hai, though unarmed, managed to block Aragorn's sword arm and seized the Man's throat with his free hand, trying to choke him to death. He would have succeeded if an Elvish arrow had not pierced his back and killed him on the spot. Suddenly, in the forest echoed an anguished sound.

"The Horn of Gondor…" Legolas murmured, turning toward the direction from which the sound came.

"Boromir!" Aragorn cried out, trying to reach his fellow in spite of the Uruks that blocked his way.

Orcs kept on coming from every direction, climbing down the hills. They were a storm, a whole river and it looked like there was no end to their coming.

Boromir blew his Horn again and was forced to take a few steps back under that assault. "Run! Run!" he shouted to Merry and Pippin as he parried a blow. "Torey, go away!"

"NO!" The girl replied, tearing a gap in the stomach of an Orc and Stunning another. Casting spells was getting more and more difficult, there were too many enemies and they were coming too fast. She tried to concentrate her strength on her right hand, which held the sword, but in spite of the lessons she had received, she was still a beginner and her opponents were at least twenty times stronger than her. If her Twenty-nine Housemates had not been there to help her with their strength, she would have been stabbed to death long ago.

The Halflings stopped and turned back. They were too scared to fight, but at the same time they were unwilling to leave their friends alone.

High above the hill appeared a monstrous Uruk-hai, even bigger than the others and with the White Hand painted on his mug. He held a bow in his hands.

Boromir managed to drive back the attack of one of the fiends and suddenly, with a faint whiz, an arrow pierced his chest. The Man stumbled and fell on his knees.

"DAD!" Victoria shouted, turning back toward him for they had been parted during the fight. Her desperate call became a cry of pain: a black arrow had hit her right shoulder, piercing her flesh. She could not hold her sword anymore, but as she let it fall on the ground, she tightened her grip on her wand.

Boromir got to his feet, parried the blows of another Orc and thrust his sword in the beast's stomach, then he turned around to face another enemy.

At the same time Victoria stood still, gathering all her feelings and emotions to cast the most terrible spell of the Wizardry World, the gravest of the Unforgivable Curses. Her eyes found her target among the dark mass of Orcs just as he nock another arrow. The Slytherin witch aimed and started pronouncing the formula. But at the last moment, another Orc threw himself at her and the green light of the Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, fully hit him. As he died, he still managed to hit her in the head with his shield. Exhausted by the Curse she had cast, Victoria could not avoid the sudden attack and the blow made her lose her consciousness. As darkness fell upon her like the waves of the stormy sea on a shipwrecked, she saw her father being hit by a second arrow.

Boromir fell to his knees right in front of Merry and Pippin, who were staring at the scene with shock written upon their faces. They could not believe what their own eyes had just seen: Boromir wounded, Victoria stabbed in the back and laying on the ground, maybe dead… In their eyes, Boromir saw all their fear and all their innocence. He could not fail them as well, he had to keep on fighting, the others had surely heard the call of the Horn and would have come soon. He could not give in. The Man managed to turn around and stab an Uruk-hai with his sword. Another fiend marched against him, thinking it was going to be an easy task, but Boromir managed to make him lose his balance and stab him. His strength was failing him and even breathing had become painful, but he drove back the attack of another enemy. He turned his head a little, looking for Victoria with his eyes. He had to see her, to see if she was fine, if she had recovered, if she was really dead…and the third, fatal arrow pierced him. His breath was caught in his throat, the pain was excruciating and hot blood dripped down his wounds. He could not move.

Shouting, Merry and Pippin unsheathed their swords, firmly resolved to defend their friend and teacher like he had defended them, but couldn't do it: strong arms seized them and dragged them away as they uselessly struggled against them. The river of the Uruk-hai took off Westward, toward Isengard.

Boromir's eyes saw only Victoria, who lay on the ground. Not only he had betrayed everybody's trust and doomed Middle-Earth to ruin, but he hadn't been able to protect the little Hobbits and the girl he loved as a daughter. His heart sank in a darkness gloomier and more painful than the arrow protruding from his child's tender shoulder.

An Orc stood in front of him. It was the archer who had struck his body thrice and his spirit once. For the arrow that had struck Victoria had been the hardest blow and that alone hurt like the other three together. He hadn't been able to protect her. He had failed her too.

The archer grinned. Boromir would have liked to tear that face of cruel joy from the fiend's mug, but he did not have the strength to do so.

Suddenly, his heart leapt in his chest. He had seen an imperceptible movement behind the Orc's back, perhaps…Aye, there was no doubt: Victoria was still alive. Wounded, but alive. The Man kept his face blank: the Orc must not realize that, or it would have been her downfall.

The girl was slowly moving her left hand toward the wand that lay, unbroken, a few centimeters away from her. Boromir understood immediately what she meant to do and searched her eyes, trying to make her understand with a single look that she must not move, she must let it be… Victoria, who kept her eyes focused on her enemy and her father, met his gaze and understood the message he was trying to send her. She shook her head without breaking eye-contact.

Her hand was closer and closer to the wand, the archer nock another black arrow and started pulling the string tight to administrate the finishing stroke to the wounded Man. Boromir kept on holding Victoria's gaze, praying that she wouldn't do anything stupid and get caught… With a sudden move, the girl seized the wand, aimed at the archer's back and – since she didn't have the time nor the strength to cast another Killing Curse – threw a Lightning, which fully hit the monster's spine. The attack and the sudden pain caught him off guard and he dropped the bow and the arrow. Before he could turn around, Aragorn pounced upon him, taking him away from the wounded.

Victoria got to her feet and ran to Boromir, helping him to lie down. "Oh God…Hold on, dad…" she murmured as she tore away her Slytherin scarf and tried to tampon the blood. She started whispering a spell, but Boromir stopped her. "Leave it…It is over. My road ends here…"

Victoria shook her head forcefully. "No…no, no, no…daddy, please…you can't leave…We must go to Minas Tirith together, remember? An-and you haven't apologized to Frodo yet…"

"Do it in my stead, _élif neièn_…" He saw that the first tears had started streaming down her face. "This isn't a farewell, _Merilìs_…I will always be here…" He whispered, lightly caressing her face. "…here…" He placed his hand on her chest, feeling her heart-beat against his palm. "…and here." His hand covered his child's smaller one. Aye, his child…to him, but not to the rest of the world. He took her right hand, gathering a little bit of his own blood on a fingertip, traced a circle on her hand and then guided it on her own heart so it left a mark on her clothes. He whispered the ritual words in the Common Tongue, so she would understand them. "Blood in blood…fate in fate…light in light. _Élif neièn_. My daughter."

In spite of the confusion that reigned in her head, Victoria realized that it must be some kind of christening. "_Édar_…Father." she murmured first in Gondorian dialect, then in Common Tongue. She didn't notice Aragorn until he dropped down beside Boromir. The son of the Stewart turned to Isildur's Heir. "They took the little ones…Frodo! Where is Frodo?" He asked anxiously, grabbing the Man's arm.

"I let Frodo go," Aragorn answered.

The other Man nodded faintly. "Then you did what I could not…I almost tried to take the Ring from him…"

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," The Ranger tried to reassure him.

"Forgive me…both of you…" His grip was almost convulsive. "I did not see it…I have failed you all…"

"No!" Victoria cried out firmly, as Aragorn said at the same time, "No, Boromir. You fought bravely…You have kept your honor."

"What for? It is over…The world of Men will fall…and all will come to darkness…and my city to ruin."

Aragorn's eyes met his own and held them. "I do not know what strength is in my blood," he said in a voice choked by tears but firm. "But I swear to you I will not let the White City fall…nor our people fail."

"Our people…our people…" Boromir repeated, savoring those words he had longed to hear for a long time. He reached for his sword and his daughter handed it back to him with extreme tenderness. With an immense effort, Boromir managed to hold it to his own chest. "I would have followed you, my brother…my Captain…my King." But there was another thing he must do. He turned his gaze on Victoria, who was shaking and whose eyes were full of pain. "Take care of her, I beg of you…" He looked for his daughter's hand and she hurriedly grasped his hand with her own. "Be brave, little soldier…Daddy loves you…" He sighed and in the darkness that fell over his eyes, for a moment he managed to catch a glimpse of Victoria's face surrounded by the sunlight and furrowed with tears. He thought it the face of an angel, but he had not the strength to say so. The light in his eyes went out. His spirit flew far away.

"Daddy…" Victoria murmured in a broken voice. "Daddy…" Her tears were like Autumn rain. She collapsed beside the body of the only father she had ever had, moaning and sobbing. Aragorn signed himself touching his own forehead and lips and then bent down to kiss his fallen comrade's browse. "Rest in peace, Son of Gondor."

He got to his feet and hugged Victoria, holding her close and trying to comfort her as much as he could. The girl trembled in his arms, shaken by her own sobs. She clung to him and buried her face against his shoulder. He didn't let her go until she calmed down.

"We cannot leave him here…" Gimli said slowly.

"We shall give him to the river," Aragorn said. "Anduin, the river of Gondor, will take care that no one will dishonor his body." He knelt down in front of Victoria, who still sat by her father's lifeless body, trying to catch her gaze. "Do you agree, Victoria?"

The girl barely nodded and answered in a flat voice, "Yes…that's fine."

"Come on…" he murmured as he helped her up.

Before all the Boromir-fans out there decide to kill me, let me explain:

I certainly didn't mean for him to die! I swear I honestly thought he would live when I started writing this. Unfortunately, when we came near the end, he just had to go and do whatever he wanted!

I swear I couldn't change him – I'm blaming this on Tolkien for writing such a story that makes resurrecting Boromir or keeping him alive almost impossible.

Great authors like may try and succeed. I tried to find a way, but I couldn't.

Forgive me, Boromir. I did my best.


	25. Chapter XXV: Parting Ways

The last chapter…

CHAPTER XXV: PARTING WAYS

Helped by Legolas and Gimli, Aragorn built a kind of bier and with that they carried him to the riverbank. Victoria dipped her white-and-green scarf in the clear water of the river and gently bathed her father's face, cleaning the dirt and blood.

By her side, Aragorn got ready to extract the arrows. He could feel her eyes upon him.

When he pulled out the first one, Victoria startled as if he had torn it away from her own living, aching flesh. More then she had done when he had pulled the arrow out of her right shoulder, before she could heal it herself with a simple spell. "Take it easy…" She whispered. "Be careful not to hurt him…"

Aragorn did not have the courage to answer: he nodded briefly.

Gimli bowed his head. He understood perfectly Victoria's feelings and he knew that her request was not a sign of madness.

The arrows were removed and the body was laid down in one of the gray boats. Victoria folded the gray cloak of Lorien, so it would serve as a pillow to lay his head on. They buried him with his sword in his hands and his shield stood behind his head. They placed the Horn of Gondor – of which he had been so proud – in his lap. On his chest shone the silver cross and, hanging from the same chain, the five lire coin Victoria had given him long ago in Rivendell. When she saw it, her eyes filled with tears and she lay one of her Slytherin-colored scarves into the boat. Then she stepped back and there she stood, watching Aragorn and Legolas as they pushed the boat into the river.

The stream captured it and pushed it toward the falls. The Dwarf, the Elf, Isildur's heir and Boromir's daughter stood on the bank, watching the boat as it glided on the water.

In the silence, Aragorn intoned a sad melody, a funeral lament.

"_Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows __  
__The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes. __  
__'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?' __  
__'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and gray; __  
__I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away __  
__Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more. __  
__The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.' __  
'__O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar, __  
__But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.' _"**1**

Victoria started crying silently. Legolas' voice took Aragorn's place.

"_From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones; __  
__The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans. __  
__'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve? __  
__Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.' __  
__'Ask not of me where he doth dwell--so many bones there lie __  
__On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky; __  
__So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea. __  
__Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!' __  
__'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south, __  
__But you came not with the wailing gulls from the gray sea's mouth.'_ "**1**

Then Aragorn sang again.

"_From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls; __  
__And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls. __  
'__What news from the North, O might wind, do you bring to me today? __  
__What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.' __  
'__Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought. __  
__His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought. __  
__His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest; __  
__And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.' __  
__'O Boromir! The Tower Guard shall ever northward gaze __  
__To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.' _"**1**

The song ended, lost in the roar of the Falls.

"You have left me the Eastern Wind…" Gimli murmured, his head hung low. "But I won't speak about it."

"And so it must be," Aragorn answered. "For in Minas Tirith they bear the Eastern Wind, but they do not ask him any question."

Victoria let out a sob. She came near Aragorn as she pulled something out from under her cloak: it was Boromir's leather bracers that bore the White Tree of Gondor. "I think you should have these…" she murmured, offering them to him.

The Man looked at her, astonished. "Are you sure?" She nodded. Aragorn took them from her hands and put them on, casting a long glance toward the falls.

Legolas' voice awoke them. "Boromir has taken his path, now we must take ours." The others turned to look at him. "We must hurry: Frodo and Sam have reached the other shore long ago…" He turned to Aragorn and their eyes met. It took him a few moments to understand. "You mean not to follow them…" he finally murmured.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn replied.

"Then it was all in vain!" Gimli lamented. "The Fellowship has failed."

Aragorn looked at his two companions, then he turned toward Victoria, who had dropped down on a rock and looked a thousand miles away from there. He came near the other two and laid a hand on their shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He took back his Elvish dagger, putting it back in its sheathe with a sharp click. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc."

"Yes!" Gimli shouted.

"No," said a calm voice behind them.

The three of them turned to Victoria. The girl now stood on the shore, clutching a white-and-green scarf in her fist.

"No?" Aragorn repeated disbelievingly and worriedly, hoping he had misunderstood her.

"No. I won't come with you. I could never keep up with your pace, I'd just slow you down." The girl explained.

"What will you do, then? You cannot stay here on your own!"Legolas said worriedly.

Victoria lowered her gaze.

"Maybe…maybe she could go back to Lothlorien." Gimli suggested.

"Never," the girl growled, clutching her scarf so tightly that her knuckles paled.

"What do you want to do, then?" Aragorn asked as he came near her.

Victoria kept on avoiding his gaze. She glanced at the Last Ring she wore and turned around, looking at the opposite shore with a strange look of longing on her face.

"Are you sure that this is your road?" Aragorn asked cautiously. Victoria nodded without looking away from the other riverbank. "The Ring hasn't called you yet…But what if It did? Are sure that you would be able to resist it?"

"No," Victoria replied. "But if I couldn't, there would always be this to stop me." She unfastened the scabbard of a dagger from her belt and showed it to the others, who immediately recognized it. That dagger came from Gondor and once belonged to her father. Victoria's voice did not shake and her gaze was firm as she said those words. No one could doubt that she would have done what she had promised.

"I can't allow you to follow them, Victoria, I'm sorry. I promised Boromir that I would have taken care of you and I will, even if you don't agree." He moved to walk away, but she caught him by the arm. "I've already had a father, Aragorn…I don't need another one. I don't want another one." She looked for his eyes. "Please…"

In that moment, Aragorn realized that she was asking for his leave. The Last Slytherin and the Isildur's Heir stared at each other for a moment, then, finally, the Man nodded. "So be it."

/But Aragorn…/ Legolas tried to object, but he cut him off. /If this is the road she has chosen, we can't forbid her to take it./ He turned to the girl, speaking in Common Tongue. "Frodo will kill me for letting you go…"

Victoria looked at him, puzzled. "Frodo?"

He nodded. "He asked me to…keep an eye on you."

"Oh," she whispered.

Legolas and Gimli came near. "I think we should hurry," the Dwarf muttered.

Aragorn nodded and hugged the girl. "Take care of yourself, Victoria."

"I will," she replied as she hugged him back. "Good luck, Indiana Jones." She freed herself from his embrace and turned to Legolas, throwing her arms around his neck. "Goodbye, Legolas."

"Please, be careful," he recommended.

"You too. And don't worry," she added.

There was only Gimli left. Victoria knelt down to his height and then, without any warning, hugged him tightly.

"Ehm, ehm…" the Dwarf coughed, taking a step back. "Good luck."

"Good luck to you too, Gimli." She stood up and took a couple of steps back, staring at them sternly. "Ehy…Don't you dare get yourselves killed!" Her gaze became softer, sadder. "Don't make me cry, guys."

"We shall do our best," Aragorn reassured and laid a hand on her shoulder. Victoria half-smiled at him, then pulled herself together. "Well? What are you doing here? Shoo, be gone!"

Sir, yes, sir, Aragorn replied, springing in a playful salute. Then the three men left.

Victoria stood there, watching them as they followed the Uruks' trail. Suddenly, she realized that there was something she had forgotten to tell them. "GUYS! She shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing among the hills. KILL THEM FOR ME TOO!"

Without stopping, Legolas turned back and widely waved at her. They had heard. They had understood. The daughter of Boromir of Gondor raised her arm and waved goodbye at them until they disappeared from her sight.

The girl sat back down under the great tree. She was alone, now. She still held her Slytherin scarf in her hand. Victoria lowered her gaze on that piece of her past and tightened her grip around it. Slowly, she took off the silver coronet that her father Boromir had given her and wrapped it into the green and white scarf. She still felt her father's hand caressing her face and in the breeze among the branches she could hear his words. "_Élif neièn._ My daughter." "Be brave, Little Soldier."

Victoria raised her head, straightened her back and turned toward the falls. "I won't let you down, _édnie_."

She started gathering some things that might have been useful during the journey, putting them into her pack with her scarf and its precious content. When everything was ready, she automatically slipped her hands in her pockets looking for a cigarette. Her fingers touched something metallic. Victoria took her hand back and stared almost spellbound at her keys and her key-ring that shone in the sun. She smiled when suddenly the lyrics of a song came into her mind.

"_I've never been so lost_

_I've never felt so much at home,_

_please write my folks and throw away my keys._"**2**

That was exactly how she felt…even if, truth to be told, there was no one to write to in her world.

Victoria turned toward the lake, pulled her arm back and threw the keys as far as she could, following with her eyes the shining arch they draw in the early-afternoon sky until they fell into the deep water. She recalled the night on the Caradhras, when she had told the tale of Robin Hood. She thought about the archer of Nottingham, about the last arrow he had shot and how he had wanted to be buried wherever it would fall. She didn't have the Second Sight, but in her veins flowed part of the blood of Gawain Morgan the Seer: she had the feeling that water would have had quite an important part in her future. She slipped off her ring, studying it attentively. Slytherin's Ring, the Last Ring…The key of the door between her Earth and Middle Earth, with its green gem that shone and sparkled. For some moments, Victoria contemplated the possibility to make it follow the same fate of the other keys, but then she placed it back around her finger. She knew the story of the One Ring, the route It had taken and all the lives It had destroyed before It came to Frodo. It was definitely better not to misplace any magic Ring, or, at least entrust them to Bearers who had no intention of using them.

She recalled Galadriel's words. Victoria turned Northward, toward Lothlorien. She had made her choice. Maybe she should have said some epic sentence, but it clearly had no sense since nobody would hear it. And then, she had never really liked those kind of things: they sounded artificial…false. False as the speech of the Headmaster at the end of her Fifth Year. After all, those things sounded good only in the movies. And, as they say, life is no movie. But Victoria already knew that.

She grabbed her things and threw them in the last boat left. She was about to get onboard when a faint noise behind her back caught her attention. She draw her sword, but immediately put it back in its sheathe when she saw two yellow eyes staring at her from the high branch of a three. "Are you still here?" she asked, folding her arms. "I thought you'd go with Aragorn and the others…However, you can still reach them." Duke positively shrieked with indignation and flew down the branch, landing on her shoulder and pecking her. "Ouch! Just kidding, you hysterical crow." She stroked his feathers. "So, it's just me and you again, isn't it?" Duke screeched again. Victoria smiled. "Come on, let's go."

She jumped into the boat and started rowing with a will. "Frodo and Sam must have a great lead on us by now and I don't even know which direction they have taken…Duke, try to find them, but don't let them see you." The hawk shrieked and flew away.

Later, Victoria reached the Eastern shore. Duke was nowhere to be seen, so she sat down on the banks and waited. She hoped that he would arrive soon, for staying there hurt her, the wound open by Boromir's death was too fresh. Maybe she would never be able to pass upon those shores and keep her eyes dry.

Clutching her crucifix between her hands, Victoria prayed for her father's soul. A father much loved and lost too soon.

A flapping of wings tore her away from her thoughts. Duke landed on a branch in front of her. "Did you find them?" The hawk shrieked, as if he had been saying yes. Good. Lead the way, then. 

Victoria put on her backpack and wrapped her Slytherin scarf around her neck. She turned to Rauros and the western shore for the last time, whispering the words of a song as a last prayer.

"_God bless cowboys,_

_Gob bless all, _

_God bless my father_

_God rest his soul_."**3**

Then she turned around and marched Eastward, on the Halfling's trail. She had to find them at all costs. Frodo needed her.

As the sun began to set behind them, Frodo and Sam reached the top of a stony hill. In front of them spread the sharp peaks of the Emyn Muil and the dark crests of the reign of Sauron.

"Mordor…" Frodo murmured. "I hope the others find a safer road," he added, thinking about his young cousins and the girl he had left behind.

"Strider will look after them," Sam comforted him.

"I don't suppose we shall ever see them again…" he whispered, a deep sadness marring his fair face.

"We may yet, Mister Frodo. We may," Sam replied.

Right in that moment, they heard a sharp sound above their heads. The two Hobbits raised their gaze and saw a dark hawk flying above them.

"It looks like…But no, it cannot be…" Sam muttered, staring at the animal with his mouth open.

Another cry was heard. "Frodo! Sam!"

The Hobbits turned around just in time to see Victoria hobbling up the hill, with her backpack on her shoulders.

The girl threw herself on her knees, hugging them. "Oh, guys, I'm so happy to see ya, I feared I wouldn't find you! I've been following you for the whole afternoon."

"What are you doing here, Victoria?" Frodo asked as soon as he managed to find his voice, trying to mask the guilty happiness he felt.

"I'm coming with you," she replied good-heartedly, as if he had asked her what time it was.

"No. Absolutely no. You cannot come, Vivi, it's too dangerous."

"Honestly, I don't give a damn. I'll go wherever you will go," the young witch said firmly.

"Mister Frodo is right, you shouldn't have come," Sam spoke up. "You must go back. 

"Yes, you must stay with the others, Vivi,"Frodo agreed.

"Which part of "I'm coming with you" haven't you understood?" she shot back.

"There's nothing to understand, you aren't coming and that's all!" Frodo argued.

"We won't allow you to follow us!" Sam added.

Oh, just come and try! She replied as she sprang to her feet and drew herself up to her full 160 cm**4** of height, which, Humanly speaking, wasn't exactly a great height. However, it was always 40 cm**4** higher than the maximum Hobbit height.

"Ehm…" they coughed, blushing for the poor figure they ad just cut out.

"Next time check that you brain is linked to your tongue before talking…" the girl teased them as she moved a little her backpack. "So, am I a part of the team?"

"Will it change something if I say no?" Frodo asked, rubbing his forehead.

"No."

"I expected it…Come on, let us go. It's getting dark and we have yet to find a place to rest," he sighed.

They started climbing down toward the Emyn Muil and camped among the first rocks. The pale moonlight shone on Victoria and Sam's faces. Frodo watched them with a half-smile upon his lips.

"What's up, Frodo?" Victoria asked, softly smiling at him.

"Nothing…I was just thinking that I'm glad you two are with me," he answered.

Victoria leaned toward him and took his hand. "We're glad to be with you as well, aren't we, Sam?"

"Of course we are," the Hobbit replied, almost scandalized. "There's no other place we'd rather be."

A long road lay in front of them, but they were not afraid because they were not on their own.

The End 

1: J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Two Towers."

2: Something Corporate, "I woke up in a car."

3: John Denver, "Me and my uncle." I just switched "uncle" with "father."

4: Victoria is about five feet four, which makes her one foot three taller than a Hobbit.

Author's notes: so, this is the end. I decided to finish this before my birthday comes up – consider it a Hobbit-like birthday present.

I'd like to thank my friends Veronica and Lara for supporting me,

My beta readers Funny-Neko and Daughter of Olorin – especially Daughter of Olorin, who helped me with the translation.

Thanks to everyone who read this story and a super-mega-special thanks to everyone who reviewed: Xoulblade, Alanna Aurdomiel, Alassea2 (I wonder if she's still reading), Lady Phoenix Slytherin, Kurleyhawk2, Mirkwoodleaf101, Elrohir lover (again, sorry for my mistake…), Lightning Rain, Senshi of Books, Empress Guinevere Sparrow, Disama, Sweetlittlecherry, Shine-Dusk, Kerla, Olwyen/Hopewithin, Chronicles Bailey, Shadow, Fredthebaker, Catgirl1989, Neosun7, Tinkerbell033, Celebwen Telcontar, Mercva, Tenshikoneko03, Lady Vamp1, Arami, Lothliana, Ailias Kurai.

Sorry if I've been lazy and I hope to see you in the next parts of the story:

**The Long Way – Traveling Soldiers.**

You'll find it in the Lord of The Rings section by selecting Frodo & Sam as main Characters – this site doesn't have a "OC option".


	26. Traveling Soldiers

"… " : speech

'…' : thoughts

//…: Elvish.

_Italic : _foreign language (Italian, Gondor local speech, Piedmont local speech, Latin)

_Italic paragraphs_ : flashbacks

_**Italic & bold**_: emphasis

**THE LONG WAY**

**Part Two: Traveling soldiers**

CHAPTER I: THOUGHTS IN THE DARK

The rhythmic and soft ticking of the rain against the window glasses was the only sound in that gloomy winter afternoon. The only light in that red-and-yellow room – his House's colors – was the trembling fire in the fireplace, which wasn't enough to drive away the cold or the darkness.

But the cold the boy felt would never be driven back by a flame, even if it was the breath of a dragon. Soul-trapping ice is not easily melted.

The boy passed a hand over his forehead, running his fingers through wisp of hair as black as ink, then he took off his glasses and cleaned them with his t-shirt. He put them on again and went back to studying the photograph in his lap. From the sheet of paper, the violet eyes of a tanned girl were staring at him and the girl's dark brown hair badly tied framed her face, falling carelessly on her shoulders. She did not smile, nor did she make faces at the camera, as the students usually do when taking pictures for the year-book. Deciphering the emotions that stood out on that face and those eyes was very difficult. He could glimpse a pain that couldn't be measured or understood, deep wounds that would never heal, a burning anger and a deep hatred…And in those eyes there was something else, an alarming spark that would have scared anybody. Few could meet that gaze.

The boy shook his head: a lot of people said that it was the look of a mad girl, a lunatic… but he thought that it was just the reflection of all the tears she had cried in her young life.

He lowered his eyes. He couldn't bear the accusations that girl screamed even when she was silent. He who had defeated Voldemort more than once, the young hero of the Wizardry World, the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter the epitome of the Gryffindor could not look at Victoria Cross, the Last Slytherin, in the face. He couldn't even look at her picture.

If he closed his eyes, a thousand images flashed behind his eyelids. He remembered how she had been during her first years in Hogwarts, he remembered her with Flint, Pucey and Malfoy, at that cursed match in his sixth year. He remembered her desperate screams, her sobs echoing in the whole stadium, her accusing looks, so strong and so angry, sharp and deadly as daggers, inerasable. He had never thought that someday those looks would have become even sharper, that those eyes could hold more hatred.

He felt a burden on his chest that cut off his breath, a lump in his heart. And he knew perfectly well why.

He looked at the photo again. A long time had passed from the last time he had taken it out to look at it. That day, Hermione had caught him and she had gotten very angry. She had told him that there was nothing he could do, at least not now. He could not waste his time dwelling on the past, he had to concentrate on the war and the next battle. In the dark, he curved his lips in a bitter smile: there was always a "next battle" the Boy-Who-Lived had to think about.

His thoughts drifted back to Victoria Cross, to the conversations they have had on the bridge outside Hogsmaede. They had met there two or three times, then he had started avoiding that place. He didn't want to meet Victoria, he didn't want to talk to her. Victoria's eyes troubled him, maybe even scared him a little. Her words did that, too. She always mixed up his whole world, shook it from its roots and turned it upside down completely….She tore down the walls of his certainties and left him in the power of the wind. Just like she was, after all: in the power of the cold wind, a prayer to the waves of life.

Slytherin tricks, Ron called it.

A point of view different from our own, Harry defined it.

And even if it was different, if didn't mean that it was evil. A whole House had to be destroyed before he realized that.

He turned his gaze on the decoration that adorned the bracket of the fireplace: Hogwart's Coat of Arms, with the emblems of the Four Houses. Here it was Slytherin's snake, in his quarter opposite Gryffindor's lion.

Another bitter smile. In the middle of a war there were certain people who had the nerve to fuss to have the school's Coat of Arms changed. At least, as long as Dumbledore and he lived, this would never happen. The Lost House of Slytherin would have been remembered at least upon that shield. It was the very least they could do.

Harry Potter stood up and slipped the photo between the pages of the book from which he had taken it. Slowly, he walked to the window: through the rain, he could see the towers and the huge walls of Hogwarts soaking wet.

The Last Slytherin had disappeared long ago. They waited for her at school months before, but she never arrived. Nobody knew where she was, she had no one to turn to. Her mother had been killed, her father had been found dead about eleven days before she disappeared without leaving any trace. Dead were her friends and her Housemates. Some people said she had run away to join the Death Eaters, but Harry knew that even the Imperius Curse wouldn't have brought Victoria Cross on the Dark Lord's side. Or on theirs, for all that mattered. She had said it loud and clear in that May afternoon, on the bridge. He could still hear her voice, "**_I don't fight with murderers._**"

Some people said she was dead. But Harry was quite sure that they were wrong. Victoria Cross was still alive, she was still out there.

Harry Potter did not know it, but he was right only about the first point. And he was wrong to believe that he was the only one who still thought about her. The world is not so small as we think. And the Universe is even bigger than we can ever imagine. Elsewhere, very far away, there were other people that were thinking about Victoria Cross...

Curious yet?

Check out the rest - "The Long way: Traveling Soldiers" is up


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